


The PW Timeline

by CrystalNinjaPhoenix



Category: jacksepticeye
Genre: (theres really only one tho), Gen, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Original Characters - Freeform, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, The original characters play a big part but cmon the canon has like six characters, Toxic Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:14:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 79,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25196758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalNinjaPhoenix/pseuds/CrystalNinjaPhoenix
Summary: Dr. Schneeplestein returns after a nine-month-long disappearance, and is quickly accused of a series of murders committed when he was missing. Due to a preexisting condition, he's sent to a mental hospital. His psychiatrist tries her best to help him, but is it possible there's more to this case than it appears? What initially appeared to be a series of confusing delusions might actually have a ground in reality.
Relationships: Chase & Jack - Relationship, Chase & Jameson, Henrik & Chase, Henrik & Jack, Jackie & Henrik, Jameson & Marvin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. Clinics and Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Just like all my other works, this is copied over from my Tumblr. It was intended to be a "what-if" one-shot but ideas for this new world started taking root, and now it's a whole story that's been built to be a bit confusing and twisting but it's really fun to write, and I hear it's fun to read, too lol. Hope you guys enjoy reading!

The room was pretty empty. It had to be, in accordance with the hospital regulations. Dr. Rya Laurens liked to think that though it was empty, it wasn’t hollow, but the truth was that you still couldn’t help but notice a clinical sort of feeling. It was in the white-painted walls and the gray carpet, in the fluorescent lights overhead whose bright light evenly covered the room. There were only three pieces of furniture in the room: a table and two chairs.

Dr. Laurens tapped the edges of the folder against the table surface, making sure all the papers were contained inside and not slipping out. Then she set it down and looked up at the man sitting across from her. Brown hair. Blue eyes that had been hidden behind glasses before, but those hadn’t complied with the hospital regulations either. Simple sweater and pants. His arms were folded on top of the table, fingers drumming a rhythm of some sort on his sleeve. She smiled at him. “Hi. My name’s Dr. Laurens. Are you ready to start, Mr. Schneeplestein?”

“Doctor.”

“Yes?”

“No, no.” He shook his head. “My name is _Dr._ Schneeplestein. You are using the wrong thing in front.”

“Oh.” Laurens checked the first page in the file real quick. She didn’t know why, exactly, because she already knew this guy was a surgeon. Probably just to cover her tracks or something. “Yes, that’s the wrong prefix. Sorry.” She coughed, a jittery sound. “Can I call you Henrik?”

“No.”

Laurens raised her eyebrow. “You sure? I don’t want to accidentally mispronounce your name or anything.”

He shrugged. “I suppose you can call me ‘Schneep.’ It is a nickname my friends have given to me.”

“Alright.” Laurens clicked her pen on and made a note of the name in the file. “So, then. Schneep. Do you know why you’re here?”

Schneep’s fingers stopped tapping. “In this room, or in this building?”

“Either one.” Laurens smiled patiently. “Or both, whichever you prefer.”

Schneep looked down at the table surface and didn’t say anything. Dr. Laurens decided to wait for a bit, double-checking that everything was in order in the file. She swallowed, a bit nervous. After a few seconds, Schneep looked back up at her and said, “No.”

“You don’t know why you’re here?” Laurens clarified.

“Well…I have some idea,” Schneep admitted. “But I do not see the sense in it.”

Laurens pursed her lips. “I see…” She leaned back in her chair and began rifling through the folder again. “Well, I can try to help you with that. I have some recordings of past events here. I can…remind you of things, and maybe then you’ll, ah, see the sense in it.”

Schneep didn’t say anything. Laurens glanced up at him briefly before turning her attention back to the papers in the folder. She cleared her throat. “So. On August third last year, you were in your office at the hospital when your friend—Jack, correct?” She waited for his stiff nod before continuing. “Your friend Jack showed up, apparently to ask for a check-up. You decided to help, and went with him to an examination room. About forty minutes later, you left the examination room with Jack, except he was losing consciousness. You took him to one of the empty operating rooms and refused aid when offered by some of your coworkers. Five hours later, you left the room, and then the building.”

“I did not leave,” Schneep said quietly.

Laurens jumped, not expecting him to speak. “Well, you were _seen_ leaving. Both by several doctors, nurses, and patients, and the security cameras.”

“I did not leave,” he repeated insistently.

“Well…” Laurens took a deep breath. When Schneep didn’t say anything else, she continued. “Regardless of when or if you left, when one of the nurses next checked the room, Jack was unconscious, in fact, in a coma upon further examination, and surrounded by the tools and evidence of a botched operation.”

“Yes, well, that is true,” Schneep admitted. “I did preform an operation on Jack, once it seemed there was no other option to save his life.”

“From what? According to his medical records, Jack was perfectly healthy at the time.” Laurens pulled out another paper. “Not to mention the examination brought up traces of sedatives in his system, and various other medications he didn’t need.”

“It is…difficult to explain,” Schneep said slowly. He leaned forward. “But it was not my fault. I did not mean for Jack to go into the coma.”

“I believe you.” And really, she did. On that part, at least. She took a deep, shaky breath. She replaced the paper she’d withdrawn. “But what about the others? Those weren’t your fault either?”

Schneep hesitated. “The other…what? I-I do not know what you mean.”

Laurens flipped through the file, glancing back up at him every few seconds. “November 11th, last year. December 21st, last year. December 24th, last year. January 17th, this year. February 5th, this year.” She paused in her flipping. “You don’t recognize these dates? I have more.” Schneep didn’t say anything, eyes cast downward again. She closed the folder. “Thirteen people are dead—”

“Is not my fault!” Schneep’s head whipped upward, eyes wide. He unfolded his arms and banged his hands against the table. Laurens jumped, scooting her chair back an inch. “You must understand that! Nobody does, but it is the truth. It is not my fault.”

Laurens forced herself to lean forward again. The room was silent except for the small sound of her pen rolling across the table. She didn’t bother to grab it again. She smiled; it wavered for a bit before steadying. “You have to look at the facts, Dr. Schneeplestein. You disappear after this operation on your friend, only to be witnessed at the scene of several kidnappings, and the victims turned up later, dead. Killed in a way similar to being operating on, using medical equipment, some of which had your fingerprints. And no one else’s.” She kept the friendly smile plastered on her face, even as she remembered the crime scene photos she’d looked over in preparation for this meeting. If there was ever a definition of a ‘gristly scene’…she hadn’t even thought the human body contained that much blood.

“Okay, I admit how that looks.” Schneep laughed a bit, cutting himself off abruptly. “But trust me. It—it is more complicated than that.”

“Well, can you tell me about it?” Laurens prompted.

Schneep opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. “I…I cannot.”

“You can’t? Why?”

He rubbed his neck. A bit of an odd gesture. Laurens narrowed her eyes. He seemed nervous, or even scared. But then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and when he opened them again they were angry. “Because I know you will not believe anything I will say.”

“That’s not tru—”

“It is!” Schneep snapped. Laurens fought the urge to lean backwards again. “It is the nature of this place, even if I give you a reasonable explanation, you will not believe me! You will say it is just in my head.”

“I…you’re justified in thinking that,” Laurens admitted. “But I can promise you, I’ll look to follow up on any explanation you give me. Even if you think I won’t believe you.”

Schneep rolled his eyes. “Forgive me for my doubts. Besides, I do not think you can follow up on this, and even if you could, he—” He clamped a hand over his mouth. His eyes had suddenly gone very wide, the color draining from his face.

“Who’s ‘he’?” Laurens asked curiously.

Schneep shook his head, hand still covering his mouth.

“Well…you can tell me later, if you want,” Laurens said. She tried to sound encouraging. “But in the meantime…if it turns out you aren’t responsible for this, you can leave. And it can’t hurt to take some anti-”—she noticed Schneep jump—“-psychotics in the meantime. Your records say you stopped taking yours sometime in early July last year?”

Schneep’s eyes darted to the left, then to the right, and he nodded, lowering his hand but not saying anything.

“That’s not good, regardless of who you are or what you did,” Laurens said sympathetically. “There should be an orderly on the way with some pills for you to take, if you want. I can stay—” She was cut off by a sudden beep from her pager. She sighed irritably, checking it where it was belted to her waist. The message was short. What pager messages weren’t? She really wished they could be allowed to use their phones inside the main building, but again, it was against regulations. Nothing that could communicate to the world at large was allowed, and had to be dropped off in employee lockers. She looked back up. “I’m really sorry, but I have to go now. You’re okay with waiting a bit while I take care of this?”

He nodded, again staying quiet. His eyes flicked over to a spot over Laurens’ shoulder, then back again. “Thank you so much. Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.” She gathered her folder and stood up. She pushed her chair back under the table, and walked quickly over to the room’s only door. Before leaving, she glanced behind her one more time. Schneep was leaning on the table, and not looking at her. She sighed quietly, and closed the door behind her.

* * *

“Is this important?” Laurens asked quietly as she walked into the next room. “I don’t like leaving patients alone.”

Her boss, Dr. Jennifer Newson, rolled her eyes. “What’s he gonna do? Poke himself?”

“No, I mean…never mind.” Laurens sighed. “What is it?”

Dr. Newson didn’t answer for a while, turning her attention to the one-way window connecting them to the other room. Laurens didn’t approve of that window. The people in the observation room deserved to know if they were being watched. Currently, Schneep was on the other side of the glass, his head in his hands, elbows propped up on the table. “I wanted to ask you if you’re sure,” Dr. Newson said.

“It’s…a little late for that, isn’t it?” Laurens laughed nervously.

“Rya, I’m serious.” Dr. Newson turned to face her. “This is a highly sensitive case, and you just came back from…leave.”

Laurens didn’t like the way she said ‘leave.’ Like she’d skipped out on her duties to drink pina coladas in Costa Rica, instead of taking a break to try out being a personal therapist instead of part of an organized institution. But she didn’t say anything.

“I’m just saying.” Dr. Newson raised her hands like she was being arrested. “If you’re feeling out of your depth, it’s totally fine to ask someone else to take over.”

“Like who? You?”

Dr. Newson shrugged. “Well I mean, if I have to.”

Laurens glanced over to the window. Schneep was sitting up straight, looking around the room. She watched as his eyes settled on looking at something on the wall opposite the window. “Wouldn’t that be…confusing?” she asked.

“What?” Dr. Newson followed her eyes. Schneep was starting to look a little on edge, shoulders raised. His lips moved, but without the intercom on it was impossible to tell what he was saying, if he was saying anything out loud at all. “Oh. He’ll be fine,” Dr. Newson waved Laurens’ concern away. “It’s just one session, it wouldn’t matter.”

“You don’t know that,” Laurens whispered, hugging the folder she was still holding.

“What? Speak up, Rya.”

“I said you don’t know that,” Laurens repeated in a louder voice. “Sometimes people get upset with changes in routine, and it can take just one meeting to establish that routine. I don’t think we should make people upset.”

“Especially not in this case, huh?” Dr. Newson laughed. “It’s gonna be fine. You think we can’t handle one guy?” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, pointing back out the window without looking.

Laurens glanced out the window again. Schneep had pulled his legs up onto the seat of the chair and was covering his ears. His eyes were tracking some movement along the wall opposite him. He looked…he looked scared. Laurens’ heart twisted. “But…Dr. Newson, I’m really fine with this assignment. I don’t need a transfer.”

Dr. Newson cocked an eyebrow. “You sure? I’ll be honest, you looked a little nervous through that whole talk in there.”

Another glance at the window. The room’s door had opened, and an orderly walked in, balancing a metal tray with a paper cup on one hand. Schneep didn’t notice, staying completely still except for the occasional twitch. “I was kind of nervous,” Laurens admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up when—when someone ne-needs help. I can…only take this assignment, and no others, if it helps. So I can devote full attention to it.”

Dr. Newson sighed. “Alright, fine.” She stepped closer to Laurens, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. “But. If you ever change your mind, come talk to me. I’m sure I could find someone else who’d take this one. And if I can’t, I’m willing to do it myself.” She smiled wide. “Okay?”

Laurens tried not to squirm at the weight of Dr. Newson’s hands on her shoulders, or the pressing sensation of having her boss stand this close to her. “Okay,” she agreed.

“Attagirl!” Dr. Newson clapped her on the back. “Now, you can finish the session. I’ll still be here, watching for anyth—” She turned around. And stopped. “What the fuck?!”

Laurens peered over Dr. Newson’s shoulder, looking at the window. She also froze. And then she dropped the folder and shrieked.

“Go, go, go!” Dr. Newson was pushing her out the door, and she was halfway through before her mind could even process that she was. “Go get someone! I’ll deal with this!”

Laurens sprinted down the hall, half-stumbling, hand tracing the wall for balance. She reached a corner and started shouting, drawing the attention of a pair of orderlies. She wasn’t even truly aware of what she was saying, just that the words ‘accident’ and ‘right now’ were coming up a lot. The orderlies ran towards her, and she gestured for them to follow, heading back towards the observation room. The door was now wide open. Against regulations. She skidded to a halt and stared inside.

The chair had been knocked over at one point. The orderly from before was lying on the floor, his hand pressed against his neck, blood leaking from beneath his fingers, as well as three puncture wounds on his arm. Dr. Newson and Schneep were also on the floor. Dr. Newson was holding Schneep’s wrist in one hand and pushing him against one of the table legs with the other. And Schneep was pushing back, grabbing at her hand with his free one and kicking out. Laurens was admittedly impressed by how unfazed Dr. Newson was. Her eyes drifted over to Schneep’s hand, the one Dr. Newson was determinedly keeping away from her. He was holding her pen. _Her pen,_ which she realized with a jolt that she’d left behind. It was covered in blood. Blood that splashed up his hand and stained the cuff of his sweater.

Dr. Newson glanced over at her and the two orderlies, shouting something about twenty cc’s of something. One of the orderlies rushed to help their injured comrade, the other joining Dr. Newson. Laurens stayed rooted in the doorway, helplessly watching.

Schneep broke away from Dr. Newson and the orderly for a moment, scrambling across the floor. “I am sorry,” he gasped. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. I did not mean—please—” He broke into laughter, harsh and maniacal. The laughter then turned into a scream. “Leave me _alone!_ ” Tears were leaking from his eyes.

The orderly caught up to him, wrapping an arm around him. He was holding a syringe in his other hand, and awkwardly tilted Schneep’s head back and plunged the needle into his neck. Schneep jerked his head away, but it was too late. “Was not my fault!” he shouted. “Was not my fault. Believe, believe. Was not my…fault. Please…” He slowly slumped over, and within thirty seconds he was out.

Dr. Newson stood up, brushing off her sleeves. “God, can’t believe we actually had to do that. That’s supposed to be a last resort.”

“Was there another way?” Laurens asked. But the question was so quiet, it didn’t carry.

“Hey, how’s Jenkins doing?” Dr. Newson asked.

The orderly tending to the injured one looked up. “He’s alright for now, but losing a lot of blood. We need the medical team, now.”

“I’ll page them,” Dr. Newson said, already taking out her pager and flipping it open. As she typed, she looked over to Laurens. “Still wanna take this?”

Laurens glanced down at Schneep, still unconscious and being held by the orderly. The bloody pen had rolled away from his hand. She nodded.

“Wow. Okay. You’re _really_ sure? He just tried to kill someone.”

“That was my fault, Dr. Newson,” Lauren said. “I left the pen in the room.”

“Oh, like he wouldn’t have found a way to do it anyway.” Dr. Newson snapped her pager closed. “But guess it’s your risk to take. Though I suggest you continue the session tomorrow, after he’s had a chance to cool down. Harrison, you can take him back to his room.”

The orderly nodded, standing up, adjusting the way he was holding the unconscious Schneep. “Um, Dr. Newson,” Laurens piped up. “May I accompany them?”

Dr. Newson shrugged. “Sure. Uh…and while you’re there, double-check for anything that can be…used.”

“I will.” Laurens nodded, and followed the orderly out the room and down the hall.

This new assignment was sure to be…interesting. Maybe difficult, though you could never tell this early on. But Laurens was sure of one thing:

Schneep was just as scared of what was going on as the rest of them were.


	2. Risks and Regulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though Schneep isn't making much progress, Dr. Laurens is determined to find a way to help, no matter what setback occur.

Dr. Laurens hurried through the halls of the hospital, barely staying aware enough to dodge orderlies and patients in her way. She was a bit lost in her own thoughts. When she first took on the Schneeplestein case, she hadn’t expected there to be so many…difficulties. So many…incidents.

She glanced to the side, and was immediately reminded of one of them. Passing the entrance to the hospital cafeteria she could see most other patients inside eating lunch. Normally she’d be taking this time to eat in her office. But last week, Schneep had attempted to stab another patient with a plastic fork. Well, “attempted” wasn’t exactly the correct word, because that implied there was a failure to stab. Luckily, the skin hadn’t actually been broken, so no blood. But the whole thing was still enough to get Schneep banned from the cafeteria. When Laurens asked him about it later, he refused to give an explanation, other than a mumbled “Thought he was someone else.”

If Laurens was being perfectly honest with herself, there were times when she considered dropping the case altogether and handing it over to Dr. Newson, who kept hinting that she’d be happy to take it. After all, did she really want to spend so much time with the guy who 1) killed thirteen people and 2) somehow kept managing to stab people while in a secure hospital? But then she’d remember Dr. Newson’s voice that first day: “Still wanna take this?” Like Laurens couldn’t handle it. Well, Laurens wasn’t one to give up easily. And besides…she just couldn’t leave someone who needed help. And Schneeplestein, as…strange…as he was, was clearly afraid of something. Laurens was sure she could do something about that.

Laurens finally reached her destination: Room 309. There was an orderly waiting outside—Oliver, if she remembered correctly—holding a paper cup. She smiled at him. “You can wait outside, Oliver.” She tried to put a cheerful note in her voice.

He frowned. “Dr. Newson said—”

“If anything bad happens, I’ll shout.” When he didn’t look convinced, she smiled again and said, “Besides, I’m sure you want to keep texting whoever it was.”

The orderly almost dropped the cup in shock. “How did you—”

“You were a little slow putting it away. I know phones are off-limits inside the halls, but don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” She let the statement hang in the air. You could almost hear the “unless” that would follow.

“R-right.” Oliver backed up, handing her the paper cup. “You go on ahead, doc. Don’t forget to shout.”

“I won’t.” Laurens adjusted the items she was holding so she could accommodate the cup, then turned the room’s door handle and stepped inside, closing it behind her.

The inside was identical to all the other bedrooms at the hospital. In the corner was a bed with beige pillows and blankets that were securely tucked in under the mattress. Next to it was a nightstand with a lamp and across the room was a dresser. There were also a pair of armchairs with a small, round table in between them. Overall, Laurens thought it was a nice room to stay in. There was even a window on the far wall, though it lacked the ability to open like windows normally had. Schneep was currently standing at said window, looking out and not turning around when Laurens came in.

“Hello Schneep,” she said, once again putting a happy tone to her words. She walked over to the pair of armchairs, setting her stuff down on the table. Notebook, paper cup, pencil (she hurriedly tucked that behind her ear), and lunchbox. “How are you feeling today?”

Schneep glanced over at her, made a noncommittal noise, then continued looking out the window.

“I see.” She didn’t. “Well, I brought lunch.”

That got his attention. He turned around. “What?”

“Soup,” she explained, pulling a thermos out of the lunchbox. “It’s just potato, but I have crackers too. And, uh, cheese, and some fruit.” She laughed a little. Partly to cover up the sudden jump her nerves made. She wasn’t sure if it was caused by her natural anxiety or genuine worry or fear.

Schneep pushed away from the window and wandered over, sitting in one of the chairs. He watched her silently as she took out the rest of the food from the surprisingly large lunchbox. Then he noticed the open notebook, and tried to lean over to look at it. Laurens quickly pulled it over behind the box. “This is…new,” he said slowly.

“Well.” Laurens shrugged. “I figured that since our sessions usually fall after lunch time, that it would be a good idea to combine them. I mean, I’m not the best cook but I think I’m better than what they bring you.” She chuckled. In truth, the cafeteria food wasn’t that bad, but homemade had to be better.

“So. If I understand this correctly.” Schneep leaned forward onto the table, placing his chin in his hand. “We are going on a lunch date, except instead of chit-chatting, you are trying to analyze me.”

Laurens froze. “We-we-well, uh, ah, you see, I-I didn’t—” She could feel her face heating up.

Schneep smiled. “It is joke, do not worry. I know this is not the place for things like that. Besides, I am married.”

“I thought you were divorced?” Laurens muttered, taking a seat in the other chair.

“Ah, separated, but we still talk.” His smile faded. “We…did, at least.”

Laurens nodded. She pulled the notebook toward her and pushed the food toward Schneep, who stared at it for a moment before slowly reaching toward the thermos and unscrewing the lid. “Do you, um, remember what we were talking about last session?” She asked.

There was a long silence as she waited for Schneep to answer. It was a while, as he seemed more focused on the potato soup than her question. But after a few moments, he mumbled, “I believe you were attacking me about what happened last year on Christmas.”

“I wasn’t attacking you,” Laurens said. “Just asking if you wanted to talk about it.”

“Yes, but I did not—and I still do not!—and you kept asking.” Schneep looked to the side, towards the window. “I was not involved with those videos, I promise you.”

“Alright.” Laurens decided not to mention the fact that he was in several of “those videos.” Last session had been the two of them going in circles, and she felt if she continued to bring up the Christmas incident, then this one would be too. She decided to move on. “I like your hoodie,” she said. “Didn’t take you for the type to wear them.”

“…oh.” Schneep reached up and uncomfortably tugged on the hoodie strings. “Well, it was not mine at first.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No, it belonged to my friend. Jackie. He left it at my apartment one day, then only realized he left it there after he bought a replacement. So he let me keep it.”

“Jackie?” Laurens asked, intrigued. “Do you mean your friend Jack?”

Schneep laughed. “No, Jack and Jackie are different people. Though they would make jokes about that. They already looked similar enough, so they would say they are clones.”

Laurens smiled a bit. “Nice. And these two…they were the only people you considered friends?”

“No, no.” Schneep shook his head. “There was Chase and Marvin, too. It was the five of us, all together. Sometimes I thought we were closer to family.” His expression shifted, becoming a bit grayer. “I…have not seen them in a long time. I-I almost thought—hoped—they would come visit me, but I suppose not.”

“Oh…” Laurens felt an ache in her chest. “Why do you think that is?”

Schneep snorted. “Well, maybe, perhaps, because I—” He stopped short suddenly, stiffening. He turned around and looked behind him.

“Schneep?”

He was silent for a moment, eyes locked on a single spot on the wall. Then: “Shut up.”

Laurens blinked. “Me?”

He turned back around. “No, not you, I—” He sighed, letting his had fall forward into his hands. “Why am I explaining this to you? You think it is in my head.”

“Well…that doesn’t mean it’s not real,” Laurens said slowly. She was pretty sure she heard that in Harry Potter, but damn it, it was applicable to this situation. “Do you want to talk about that, or keep talking about your friends? Why do you think you haven’t seen them in a while?”

Schneep laughed dryly. “It does not matter. It is safer this way.”

“Safer?” Laurens blinked. “Why?”

There was no answer. Schneep didn’t even look up. Laurens shifted uncomfortably, making a few quick notes in her notebook in the hopes he’d say something soon. When he still hadn’t, she cleared her throat. It was worth a guess, wasn’t it? “Are you…afraid you’ll hurt them?”

Schneep looked back up. After a moment of staring at her, he nodded. Slowly.

“Oh.” Laurens didn’t feel that good about guessing correctly. If anything, she felt worse. Not in a way related to herself. But…god, she had the file on Schneep’s case. She was there when he attacked an orderly with a pen, when he’d scratched up another patient’s face. Which meant she remembered how he would start wailing apologies as soon as it was over, how he’d repeat over and over again that he didn’t mean to, that it wasn’t his fault. As bloody as his case file was, he didn’t _want_ this. She set the notebook down. “Look, I…it may sound weird, but I believe in you. You can work through this. And we can help you with that. It’s why we’re here, after all.”

“You cannot help me.” It was less a contradiction, and more a toneless statement of fact.

“Well, we can try. Who knows? Maybe we’ll surprise you.” She tried for a gentle smile. “Hey, the food is getting cold. Are you still hungry?”

After a moment, Schneep straightened and started picking at the food she’d brought.

“Oh! And you need to remember this.” Laurens pushed the paper cup toward him. The pills inside clacked against each other.

“Yes, yes,” Schneep mumbled. He looked over at her and paused. His mouth opened, like he was about to say something. Then he closed it again, shook his head, and resumed.

And even though that night Laurens would look over the notes she took for this session and feel like nothing got done, she would later remember this as one of the better ones.

* * *

What made a “good” session didn’t always depend on her. Of course, there were times when she wouldn’t push enough, and the session would be mostly chatter, or when she would push too much and Schneep would shut down in silent anger. But also…well, she learned quickly that if Schneep was having one of his bad days, they wouldn’t get much done at all.

Like the day he threw the lamp at the window. She came in to find it broken on the floor and Schneep banging and clawing at the glass. He kept attempting to force open the window, repeating “Ich bin gefangen…lass mich raus, lass mich raus!” Occasionally, he would shout “Behalte mich nicht bei ihm!” Laurens didn’t speak German, so she didn’t know what he was saying, but she could tell he was distressed. She spent the entire time attempting to calm him down.

Then there was the day, about a month after the first lunch session, when she finally made good on her promise to call for an orderly if something went wrong.

She could immediately tell this was going to be a difficult day the moment she walked into Room 309. While Schneep would usually be sitting in one of the chairs, waiting for her, today he was sitting on the bed in the corner with his knees drawn up to his chest. His eyes were wide, and there were dark bags under them. Laurens very much doubted that he’d gone to sleep the night before.

She set her lunchbox down on the small round table. Hopefully she’d get to use that today, but possibly not. “Hello Schneep,” she said. “How are you feeling today?”

Schneep didn’t say anything in answer to her usual greeting. His eyes were focused on some point in space in front of him.

“Ah. Well, that’s too bad.” She dragged one of the armchairs over so it was closer to the bed and sat down. She set her notebook on her knees and opened up to the page with today’s date listed at the top. “I brought food. We can get to that later, though, if you’re not up for it yet.” She looked up at him. “Last time we were—”

“I hate this.”

Laurens blinked. “Ex-excuse me?”

“I hate this.” Schneep was pulling on the strings of the hoodie he was wearing. It was the only one he had, the one he said belonged to his friend. “I hate this, I hate this, hate it, hate this—”

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘this’,” Laurens said patiently.

“Yes you do. You do not? You do. Please do not lie to me.”

“I’m not lying, I promise.” She gripped the edges of the notebook tightly.

His eyes whipped over toward her, still wide. “Please do not do this.”

“H-how about you tell me what the ‘this’ is, and maybe I’ll understand what you mean,” she suggested.

He looked away again, back towards that spot. “It is still going on. Why? Why does it not end?” He tugged on the hoodie strings again. “It is never over. Not—not going anywhere.”

“What isn’t?” Laurens asked quietly.

“Where are they? I do not know. I-I do not know what he wants from me.” Schneep suddenly grinned, a strangled, manic laugh escaping. His hand shot up and clamped over his mouth, but there was still the muffled sound of giggling. He started rocking back and forth, using his other arm to hug himself.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Laurens leaned forward, putting all the reassurance she could in her voice. “I want to help you, but I can’t if I don’t know everything. Who are ‘they’?”

Schneep looked back over to her. He unfolded a little from his position, though still rocking and still covering his mouth, and tugged on the hood of the hoodie he was wearing.

Lauren’s brows lowered. “Your…friends?” When Schneep nodded, she said, “I-I might be able to find them. They could come visit. Would you like that?” Another nod. Laurens briefly looked down to write a note to herself in her notebook. Schneep had provided a lot of information about them during their sessions, maybe she could do something to track them down. She looked back up. “And…who is the ‘he’?”

A renewed round of muffled laughter. Schneep began shaking his head vigorously, covering his head with the arm not already covering his mouth. He pushed backward into the wall, curling up tight once again.

“Okay, okay, you don’t have to say anything, don’t worry.” Laurens began flipping through her notebook to a single page near the back. This wasn’t the first, or even the second or the third time Schneep had mentioned a mysterious “him.” She wasn’t sure exactly what “he” meant for Schneep, only that he was very, very afraid of “him.” She was sure that if she got him to tell her about “him,” she’d make progress on what was going on inside his mind, and how to help him deal with it. 

Laurens took a moment to make a few notes, first about “him” and then about Schneep’s behavior this session. “I wanted to ask you about your medication. You know, the pills? Are they working?” Probably not. She’d probably have to change the prescription soon. “Schneep?” She looked up.

Schneep had seemed to calm down. At first glance. There wasn’t anymore rocking, and his arms weren’t wrapped around his head anymore. But then she saw that was because they were busy wrapping—

“No!” Laurens lunged forward, her notebook toppling to the floor. “Stop that! Please!”

Schneep didn’t listen to her, and when she tried to pull his hands away, he resisted. It was the string. The string that was supposed to be inside the hood, but had apparently been pulled out. It was now tangled around Schneep’s neck, and he was pulling it tighter.

“Schneep! H-Henrik, don’t—” Laurens grabbed his wrists and tried pulling them away, but with the string still tightly held in his hands that was just making it worse. She tried to pry away his fingers, and when that failed, to grab the string around his neck and pull it off. It didn’t work. She wasn’t the strongest person in the first place, and Schneep jerked his head and hands away whenever possible. She was beginning to hear small choking noises.

There was no other option. “Help!” She shouted. “Someone, anyone! We need help in here!”

Like always, an orderly had been waiting outside the door. He barged inside, taking in the scene for only a brief moment before running to Laurens’s side. A struggle later, the hoodie string was safely removed and tucked into the orderly’s pocket while Schneep was half-lying in Laurens’s arms, wheezing slightly.

Laurens looked over to the orderly. “Thanks, Oliver.”

“What happened?”

“I-I don’t know. I just looked down for a minute and he must’ve—it was from his hoodie, he removed it and started—” Laurens shuddered.

“Oh, god,” Oliver muttered disbelievingly. “We should tell Dr. Newson about this.”

“Y-yes, probably a good idea. And can you page for the med team? Just to check for any damage.” While the orderly did that, Laurens looked down at Schneep. “Hey. Stay with me, buddy. I…I hope you know that…I-I’m trying my best.”

There was a dry, hacking sound that Laurens took a moment to recognize as a laugh. Schneep muttered something.

Laurens stared at him. “What did you say…?”

“The med team’s already here,” Oliver suddenly said. “It’s probably a good thing we’re close to the med wing.”

“Oh. Okay…” Laurens was quiet as the others took Schneep away. Was quiet as she picked up her notebook and lunch box and followed them down to the medical wing. Was quiet as they said he should probably stay there for at least a night. Was quiet as she wandered down the halls toward her office.

She’d told him she was trying her best.

He responded, “So did I.”

Laurens wrote this in her notebook. She wasn’t sure why, but…it seemed important.

* * *

“Oh yeah, we had to confiscate that.”

“You what?!”

Laurens stared at Dr. Newson. She’d been called down to her office to give updates on Schneep’s progress, since the strangling incident that week might’ve seemed…counter-productive. She also wondered if maybe Dr. Newson was taking this as a chance to convince her to drop the case. But nothing could’ve prepared her for Dr. Newson casually mentioning… _that._

“Well, of course.” Dr. Newson shrugged. Her posture was very relaxed, almost lounging in her office swivel chair on the other side of the desk. “You know the regulations. If we can’t have button-up shirts in the hospital, then I guess we can’t have hoodies either.”

“You…you could’ve just removed the string and let him keep the hoodie itself,” Laurens suggested.

“Hmmmm maybe.” Dr. Newson leaned back. “Or maybe he would’ve found a way to choke himself on that overlarge collar hoodies have. I’m not taking that risk.”

“But Dr. Newson—”

“Who’s in charge of the hospital?”

Laurens looked down, shifting in her chair. She idly looked around Dr. Newson’s desk as a way to distract herself. A bunch of paperwork, a desktop computer, and a framed photograph of Dr. Newson with a man who looked a lot like her.

“Why are you so concerned about this?” Dr. Newson asked. “It’s just a hoodie.”

“It-it’s important to him,” Laurens said meekly.

“Huh,” Dr. Newson stated. Was it just Laurens’s imagination, or was there a new, hard light in Newson’s eyes? “Well, I would think staying alive would be worth more. You can apologize to him if you want.”

Laurens nodded.

Dr. Newson idly ran a hand through her ponytail. “I’m thinking we need to move him to the first floor.”

“What?!” Laurens straightened. “No! We’re not at that point yet!”

“After multiple attempted attacks on staff and patients, shown destructive behavior, and now this? We’re still not at the point, huh?”

“But—but nothing’s succeeded since the pen incident,” Laurens said, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice.

“Alright, fine,” Dr, Newson waved away. “It’s too much red tape anyway. But know I’m considering it. I expect more progress reports from you.”

Laurens felt an acidic wave of words rise in her throat. Progress reports? Like it was as simple as building a new road. The human mind was a lot more complicated than that, and progress wasn’t linear. But of course, she couldn’t yell any of this at her boss, so she kept quiet.

“I’ll be keeping track of any more incidents,” Dr. Newson continued. “If they become excessive, and/or dangerous, and/or more successful, then we’re moving him. Okay?”

“Okay,” Laurens repeated quietly.

“Great.” Dr. Newson straightened up. “You’ve dropped all other patients to focus on this, Rya, don’t fail.” She relaxed again. “You can leave now, if there isn’t anything else.”

Laurens pushed her chair back and stood up. “Goodbye, Dr. Newson. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Bye.” Dr. Newson waved lazily. As Laurens left, she heard Newson mutter something else. “Dunno why you’re so concerned about this anyway.”

It was a good question. Why was Laurens so concerned with Schneep’s predicament? But a better question was, why wouldn’t she be? She’d seen him lash out at others, true, but she also saw him strangle himself with a hoodie string. She’d read the case file about all the things he’d done to those poor people, but she also heard him admit he was scared he’d hurt his friends.

Dr. Schneeplestein was not fully in control of his own mind. And he knew it. And it terrified him. Maybe it was Laurens’s natural empathy, or maybe it was her training as a psychiatrist that told her to never leave anyone behind, but she wanted to help.

And when she arrived home that night, she logged onto her computer and typed a name into a search bar. Maybe she could help by finding someone he wanted to see.

Or maybe it would be a bad thing to alert these people. After all, he had said he didn’t want to hurt them. But Laurens thought that everyone needed their friends.


	3. Talks and Transfers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Laurens manages to make contact with one Chase Brody, not knowing that things aren't going so well for Schneep in the meantime.

“Why am I doing this, why am I doing this, oh god why am I doing this?” Dr. Laurens kept muttering this under her breath even as she dialed the number. She listened to the phone ring with slowly building dread. Maybe she should just go to work anyway. She could power through this; maybe she shouldn’t miss the session. But she was making the call. And soon it was picked up. “Hi, Dr. Newson?” She asked.

“Oh hey Rya, what’s up?”

“H-hey. I, uh, I can’t come into work today. I’m sick.” It wasn’t a lie—for the past few days there had been a slowly building headache behind her eyes, and today she woke up with a sore throat and a raspy voice. “Can, uh, I know you talked about how you’d be willing to take the Schneep case, so can you cover my session today?” Laurens winced privately. She hated to do this; she always believed in consistency, especially with schedules.

“Oh yeah! Sure, I can do that!” Dr. Newson sounded excited, and eager to help. Which was weird, because Dr. Newson didn’t do ‘excited.’ Or if she did, she didn’t show it.

Still, Laurens breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I keep my notes in the turquoise notebook, it should be on my desk in my office.”

“Uh-huh. Got it.”

“And the session is at one o’clock. Room 309.”

“Rya, chill, I’ll take care of everything,” Dr. Newson assured her. “You just rest. Your voice sounds awful, if you need some more time off just tell me.”

“I usually get over things in a day,” Laurens said. “But thanks. I-I’ll let you know.”

“You do that. See you later.” And with that, Dr. Newson hung up.

Laurens sighed again, exhaling all the nerves she’d built up as she leaned backwards against the seat of her car. She felt kinda guilty for not coming in to work. Like she was abandoning Schneep in a time of need. But he’d been doing pretty good ever since the hoodie incident. Hadn’t made much progress, but at least he wasn’t trying to hurt anyone anymore. And besides, wasn’t what she was doing now also a way to help?

It was true, she was feeling kind of under the weather, but under normal circumstances, it wasn’t bad enough to stop her from going to work. But she’d used the sick excuse so she could have the day off to search.

Laurens pulled her keys out of the ignition and stepped out of the car, looking around. She’d never been in this part of the city before. In the suburbs. If she was forced to guess, she’d say that most of the houses here were taken by families. But still, from what Schneep had said about this guy during their sessions, he lived somewhere around here. Laurens groaned silently. Guess she’d have to go door-to-door. Like a Girl Scout.

Twenty minutes later, she was starting to wonder if she was maybe wrong about thinking she was well enough to spend the day walking around an unfamiliar neighborhood. Her sore throat had faded a bit, but her head was pounding, and it felt stuffed full of fluff. Just a couple more houses. Then she could maybe drive home and take a nap, and try again that evening.

Laurens walked up the path to the door of the next house. She rang the doorbell, and while she waited she looked around idly. The yard was less well-kept than the others on the block. The grass was yellower and there were no flowers in the flowerbeds. But not everyone had the ability to do yard work. That was why she lived in an apartment.

The door opened, and she snapped to attention. “Hi I’m looking for…” she trailed off when she got a closer look at the guy who answered the door. Okay, this was him. God, Schneep had said the two of them looked similar, but she wasn’t expecting such an uncanny resemblance. He’d said they _weren’t_ related, right?

“Uh…yeah? I mean, excuse me?” The man had brown hair and blue eyes, just like Schneep, though his hair was partly hidden beneath a snap-back cap. He wore a gray shirt underneath a red jacket with some sort of logo on the lapel, and his voice had a slight American accent.

Laurens blinked, clearing her head. “Sorry, are you Chase Brody, by any chance?”

“Yeah, that’s me. What’s up?” Chase seemed to examine her. “If you’re selling something, or if you’re like, I dunno, looking for autographs, then—”

“Oh no, no no,” Laurens hurried to say. “Um, my name is Rya Laurens. Dr. Laurens. I, uh, I know your friend Sch—Henrik, and I, uh, wanted to talk to you about him.”

The change was instantaneous. Chase, who’d been previously leaning against the doorway, stood up straight, his eyes widening. “Oh, yeah, h-hang on, d’you want—please, come in.” He stood aside and let her step past him into the house.

The living room looked about what she thought it would look like. Chase had a quality entertainment system, with a widescreen TV and several video game consoles, as well as a shelf full of DVDs, most of which seemed to be kids films or Marvel movies. “You have a nice home,” she said politely.

“It’s a little messy, sorry about that,” Chase muttered, closing the door. “D’you want anything to drink? I can make tea.”

“That would be lovely.”

She followed Chase into the dining room, with adjoining kitchen separated only by a counter. While she took a seat at the dining table, Chase busied himself making the tea. She looked around, noticing a pile of dirty dishes by the sink and what looked like children’s drawings stuck to the fridge with magnets. After a few moments, during which she sat at the table in silence and failed at not feeling awkward, Chase set a mug down in front of her, sitting in the seat next to her. “Hope you like Lyons. Actually, I probably should’ve asked you before I made it.” He laughed a bit.

Laurens took a sip. “It’s good. A bit hot.”

“Oh good. Anyway. You said you knew Schneep? Do you work with him?” Chase started to take a sip of his mug of tea as well.

“Uh, no, not…I’m not that kind of doctor.” Laurens cleared her throat, which only served to make it raspier, so she coughed instead. “I work at Silver Hills—”

There was a sudden splutter as Chase seemed to spit out his tea back into the mug. “Sorry, just—” He wiped the sleeve of his jacket across his mouth. “Jesus christ, has he been there the whole time?”

“What…do you mean ‘the whole time’?” Laurens asked.

“Well, since August. When that whole…thing happened. You heard about that?”

“Oh, I know what you mean. And, uh…” Laurens shifted awkwardly in her seat. “You haven’t been watching the local news, have you?”

“No, I don’t watch news at all.” Chase looked down at the table surface and shrugged. “It…depresses me.” He looked back up. “Why?”

“A-ah…well…” God, this was awkward. Laurens kept drumming her fingers on the mug. “Henrik—Schneep—has been…implicated in several…murders.” 

Chase blinked. “You’re joking.”

“No, I-I am not.” Laurens tried to smile apologetically. She wasn’t sure it was working. “You, um, should be able to look it up. It became quite a big deal.”

“Oh my fucking god…” Chase briefly covered his mouth with his hand before lowering it again. “Did…did he do it?”

“The, uh…the evidence pointed that way,” Laurens said slowly. “They had video and DNA and everything…sorry.” She didn’t know why she apologized.

“Oh my fucking god,” Chase repeated, gaping. “I—I knew Schneep had issues but I didn’t think he was—was capable of—jesus.”

“Well…” Laurens looked down into the mug of tea. “Sometimes when…you know, the human mind is complicated, especially when it lies to you.” Chase didn’t answer. Laurens wished she could say something better, somehow more reassuring, but…ironically, despite being a psychiatrist, she wasn’t the best with people. So she tried to move on to the reason she actually came. She took a deep breath, and looked up. “He misses you, you know.”

Chase’s eyes snapped toward her. “Really?”

“Yeah. He talks about you a lot. And two others, uh, Jackie and Marvin?” When she saw recognition in Chase’s eyes, she continued. “I think it would help him if you visited. And maybe those others two.”

“That’s not possible.”

Laurens’s heart turned to rock, thinking that this day had been a waste. Chase seemed to catch her expression. “Oh I mean Jackie and Marvin visiting, I’d be happy to. Just…they can’t.”

“Oh I see.” Laurens exhaled slowly. “Why?”

“Well…” Chase rubbed the back of his neck. “Marvin skipped town. He’s not answering any of my calls or texts. I think he’s mad at me but I dunno why. And Jackie…” He took a deep breath. “Jackie’s been missing for a few months now. He—he disappeared.”

“Oh, god.” Laurens’s mind went blank. What were you supposed to say to that? She didn’t know. “I-I’m so sorry.” That was the best she could do.

“It’s fine.” Chase paused, then sighed. “Well, no, it’s not, but thanks.”

“The police—you’ve told them?” She didn’t know why she had to ask it, but she felt she had to.

“Yeah, of course. But after five months, I think they’ve given up.” A new, hard light entered his eyes. “He’s still out there, though. It’s hard to knock Jackie down. He’s tough. I don’t know what happened, but I know he can handle it.”

Laurens gave him a reassuring smile. “Well, I hope it works out.”

“Thanks, doc.” Chase took a long drink of the tea, seeming to stare into the distance. “So…how’s Schneep doing? He’s alright?”

“Last I saw him, yes,” Laurens nodded. “It’s…it’s a bit of a roller coaster sometimes, but I think he’s getting better.”

“That’s good. Great.” Chase’s fingers were drumming a rhythm on the table surface. “Silver Hills has—has visiting hours, right?”

“Oh! O-of course. They’re on our website,” Laurens explained. “But the diagram can be a bit complicated, because they vary based on a couple factors. It’s safest to visit on Fridays, from three to seven.”

“Okay. Hang on a sec.” Chase reached into his pocket and took out his phone, opening it up and tapping for a bit. “That’s on my calendar now. I guess I’ll see you on Friday, then?”

“Yes, of course! I-I should get going.” Laurens pushed her chair back, standing up. “Thanks for the tea.” She said this despite not drinking most of it.

“No problem. Thanks for stopping by and, uh, filling me in on all this.” Chase nodded. “Do you want me to walk you to the door, or…?”

“I can see myself out, thanks.” Laurens smiled awkwardly. “See you on Friday. Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

Only ten minutes later, and Laurens was back in her car, contemplating whether to drive home or go to work anyway. On the one hand, she was loathe to miss anything that went on at work, and if she went now, she could barely make it in time for her session with Schneep. On the other, her headache was starting to blossom into a migraine, and her nose was stuffing up as well. She probably wouldn’t be able to concentrate like this, and a session done poorly wouldn’t do anyone any good.

After a few more moments of wrestling with this dilemma, she started her car and set off. It would probably be fine to miss one session. Dr. Newson could handle it. What’s the worse that could happen?

* * *

One o’clock rolled around, and Dr. Newson strolled into Room 309. Schneep, who’d been pacing the length of the wall by the window, stopped, staring. He watched as she sat down in one of the chairs, setting Laurens’s notebook down on the table. “Hello, Henrik. Are you ready to start? Please sit down,” she said cheerfully.

Schneep stayed where he was. “Where is Dr. Laurens?”

“Oh, she called in sick today, asked me to fill in. I’m Dr. Newson. Please sit down.”

“Sick? With what?” Schneep’s eyes flicked over Dr. Newson’s shoulder. Two people came into the room behind her, closing the door behind him. “Who are they?”

“Don’t mind the orderlies, they’re here just in case.” Dr. Newson waved away his question. “Now if you would please sit down so we can start.”

“In case of what?”

“If you would _please_ ,” Dr. Newson’s voice hardened, “sit _down._ ”

Schneep stayed where he was for a few seconds longer, before slowly walking over and sitting in the other chair. He crossed his arms, posture stiff.

Dr. Newson simply settled into the chair, folding one leg over the other. “So, I’m obviously not caught up on how far Dr. Laurens has got in these—”

“You could check in there.” Schneep nodded at the unopened notebook on the table. “She kept very detailed notes.”

Dr. Newson smiled. “Well, I know that. I’ve checked it, but given how detailed they were I wasn’t able to read it all. I’ve skimmed it, though. And that was enough to understand that she hasn’t gotten far in asking you about what really happened.”

Schneep narrowed his eyes. “What really happened when? About what?”

“Oh, you know.” Dr. Newson pulled Laurens’s notebook toward her, flipping open to a blank page. “How about we start with Christmas? Do you remember that night?”

“Do I remember that—you are not police, Doctor,” Schneep scowled. “They have already asked me about that. I do not think it is your place to do so.”

“Well, I’m just doing my job, Henrik.”

“Do _not_ call me that.”

“Well alright, then. I’m just doing my job, Mr. Schneeplestein.” When Schneep opened his mouth to berate her for using the wrong prefix, she pushed forward anyway. “And I think it is important to my job if we discuss the events of that night. You remember, right? Those videos?”

“I had nothing to do with those videos,” Schneep insisted.

Dr. Newson laughed. “Well, you were in them, so I doubt that. Led the police on a merry overnight chase, making them keep watch for, what, twelve hours? It was quite a feat for you to pull off.” 

“I did not make those.” The words came out between gritted teeth.

Dr. Newson raised an eyebrow. “Well then, who did?”

Schneep didn’t answer. He seemed to fold in on himself, and his eyes flickered to the side. “I do not want to talk about it.”

“Oh, I get it.” Dr. Newson took a pen from her pocket and jotted a few words down. “You believe someone else did. Or was it that you thought someone was forcing you to?”

Schneep jumped, but then his eyes suddenly flashed. “I said I do not want to talk about it. I do not have to say anything to you.”

“Yes, you do, that’s why you’re here.” Dr. Newson looked up from the notebook. “Now let’s get back to the question at hand. Was there any particular reason for the Christmas incident? Did you want to try something new? Oftentimes sending letters, or videos in this case, to the police speaks of arrogance or says that it’s seen as a game. Was this a way for you to have fun?”

“Will you shut up!” Schneep sprang to his feet, slamming his hands down on the table. The two orderlies in the room jumped to attention. “Shut up and stop pushing your questions to me! I am supposed to have a chance to speak here and you are not giving it!”

Dr. Newson merely smiled. “Well, you weren’t answering, Mr. Schneeplestein.”

“Because you were not listening! I told you I do not wish to speak of it! Yet you keep asking and asking and—do you know how bothersome that is?!” He folded his arms again. “Maybe I will be ready to tell you about that night one day, but this is not that day. So shut up!”

“Mm-hmm. So you were involved in that somehow?” Dr. Newson made another note, seemingly unconcerned by the death glare Schneep was giving her. She looked up at him. “You want me to stop asking? What are you going to do to make me? Are you going to try to kill me?”

Schneep suddenly burst into laughter. Loud, screeching laughing that hit him so hard, he had to double over and lean onto the table. The two orderlies, now standing behind his chair, exchanged uncomfortable glances as he wore himself out, laughter fading to giggling as he slumped into the chair. He looked up, and there were tears in his eyes. “I do not know. Maybe I will. But I do not know. And I do not like that.” His voice was tired.

Dr. Newson stared at him. “Well, that’s good to know,” she drawled. “Maybe—”

“Maybe you really should shut your stupid mouth before it gets you in trouble.” The change of tone in Schneep’s voice was so sudden that Dr. Newson had to take a moment to recognize it as his. “Maybe you should just leave now since you clearly do not want to be here.”

Her lip curled. “I don’t think I ever gave any indication that I don’t want to be here. In fact, I didn’t even need to fill in for Dr. Laurens today. And there aren’t a lot of employees here willing to get close to you, so you should be happy you’re even getting a session today at all.”

“What, people are afraid of me? I wonder why.” A smile flashed across Schneep’s face. “Is not like I did anything to deserve that. Only that thirteen are dead and more injured.”

“Oh, I thought that ‘wasn’t your fault’,” Dr. Newson said, a sudden edge to her voice. “I thought you were ‘sorry’ about that.” 

“Two things can be true at once.” Schneep’s head slowly tilted to the side. “Especially when things are not in your control. Who is in control? And who is just playing pretend?”

“I don’t see how this is relevant, Mr. Schneeplestein.”

“But it is! You do not understand because you do not see. You do not see these things.” Another smile. “Perhaps your eyes are in the way. Would you like to get rid of them?”

Suddenly, Schneep lunged forward. Dr. Newson pushed her chair back, ready to flee, but the orderlies sprang into action. Before Schneep could get far, they managed to grab hold of him. It wasn’t an easy task. He kept twisting and wiggling his way out of their hold, and wasn’t afraid to lash out.

“Right, then.” Dr. Newson smoothed down the front of her shirt, trying to mask the way her heart had suddenly leapt into her throat. She picked up the notebook, tucking it under her arm. “I know the sessions usually last an hour, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut this short. Very short. Maybe you’ll see me tomorrow, maybe you’ll see Dr. Laurens tomorrow, who knows? Oliver, Theresa?” She nodded at the two orderlies. “I trust you came prepared?”

Maybe her question distracted them, maybe what happened next would’ve happened anyway. Schneep snarled “Let go of me!” and managed to get an arm free, shoving one of the orderlies away. Then he threw his weight against the other, who shrieked and fell—

_Crack!_

Time stopped. The world concentrated down into that single sickening crack, and the red that was suddenly decorating the sharp edge of the table. The orderly was still on the ground, a pool of identical red spreading from her head. It was a stain against the white floor, stark in the bright light.

Dr. Newson was the first to react, reaching for her pager. “Oliver, can we get a sedative while I page the med team?”

That sentence brought Schneep to his senses. “What? No! No, it was an a-accident, I did not mean—”

“That’s true. But two things can be true at once.” Dr. Newson’s voice was cold. “Oliver? Now, please?”

The orderly stopped staring, shocked, at his fallen coworker, and soon there was a needle buried in Schneep’s neck. Schneep gasped and stilled, though he kept muttering that it was an accident.

“You should probably take a good look around this room, _Henrik_ , cause you won’t be seeing it for a while, if ever,” Dr. Newson said stiffly. “You’re getting a new one. On the first floor.”

Schneep’s eyes widened, before the sedative really kicked in and he closed them. Dr. Newson nodded, then looked down at the still orderly. “When the med team gets here, get them to take him to the medical wing, too. He can stay there until the new room is ready.”

“Yes, Dr. Newson.” The orderly hesitated for a moment, and then asked, “Dr. Newson, if I may…you’re sure about this?”

Newson sighed. “I should’ve done it a lot sooner, if you ask me. Rya convinced me not to, you know it’s hard to say no to her. But god.” She knelt by the orderly on the floor, picking up her wrist and pressing two fingers to it. “We can’t let it go further than this.”

* * *

When Laurens arrived at work the next morning, she was immediately called into Dr. Newson’s office. Once there, she listened in shock as the entire story was told. “The new room number is 1010,” Dr. Newson said at the end. “I know the numbering makes no sense, but it’s in an older part of the building. And you’re now required to bring an orderly in with you whenever you visit. You know Oliver Hopkins? He’s volunteered.”

“Is…is Theresa going to be okay?” Laurens asked hesitantly.

“She had to be rushed to the hospital,” Dr. Newson explained. “Last I heard, she was still in critical condition.”

“Oh my god…” Laurens covered her mouth with her hand. She couldn’t help but feel that if she was here yesterday, she could’ve somehow prevented this. Guilt settled down into her stomach. “I hope she…well, I hope it’ll be alright.”

“Yeah.” Dr. Newson sighed. Her eyes drifted over to the picture frame on her desk. “While you’re here, is there anything else you want to talk to me about?”

“Um, well…” She wasn’t sure if this would sound in bad taste after this serious talk, but… “So, uh, residents on the first floor still have visiting hours on Fridays, right?” When Dr. Newson hesitated, she pressed. “You can’t take away visiting hours, those are required by the county board.”

“‘Unless there have been incidents wherein the patient has shown hostility to visitors,’ yeah, I know, I read the section,” Newson snapped. Then she took a deep breath. “Sorry about that. Just on edge. Yeah, it’s still Fridays, that’s the only day for most of the first floor patients. Why?”

“Well…yesterday, when I was home sick, I got a visitor.” Laurens was aware she was adjusting the story, but she didn’t want to sound like she’d been skipping out on her duties. “He said he was a friend of Sch—of Henrik’s, and that he just found out he was here and wanted to visit him. So I, uh, told him the hours and he said he’d stop by on Friday.”

“That’s three days away.”

“…yeah.”

Dr. Newson sighed, rubbing her temples. “Yeah, fine, that’s allowed. But you have to supervise it, okay?”

“Okay.” Laurens nodded. “I’m, uh…going to go find Room 1010 now.”

“Oliver knows the way, ask him to take you.”

Laurens did just that, finding the orderly nearby. Soon, she was following him down the corridors of the first floor. Unlike the ones above, the first floor was distinctly more…hospital-like, choosing to forego the wallpaper and carpeting of the upper floors, and replacing their lamps with fluorescent lights. There were also a lot more orderlies bustling about, all wearing that beige uniform that made them sort of blend together.

“So…you were there, yesterday?” she asked Oliver.

He nodded. “Yeah. It was…it was scary, man. Just all of a sudden there was yelling and then Theresa was on the floor.” He glanced at her. “Was…was that guy ever like that with you?”

“His name’s Schneep,” Laurens reminded him. “And…well, there were moments when he was loud, and sometimes seemed…a bit aggressive, but he never attacked me.” She bit her lip. “I wonder if Dr. Newson triggered that somehow…”

Oliver didn’t answer, merely looking back away. “Hey, we’re here. Room 1010.” They stopped outside a door that looked just like all the others. “I’m, uh, required to go in with you.”

“Yeah, Dr. Newson told me. She also gave me this.” Laurens pulled out a key card. While doors on the upper floors could open on their own, doors on the first floor were locked, though some of them could be opened from the inside but not from the outside. Laurens didn’t know if Room 1010 was one of those. She swiped the card through the reader next to the door. It beeped, and there was a click. Laurens pulled the door open and went inside, followed by Oliver.

The difference between the first floor and upper floors was even more evident here. Room 1010 was smaller, but also emptier. The only furniture was the white-blanketed bed, a circular table with rounded edges next to it, and a single, rather uncomfortable-looking chair next to that. A half-open door showed a connected bathroom beyond. As it was an internal room, there wasn’t a window, and the overhead lights were controlled with a single switch, no lamps anywhere.

Schneep was sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall and hugging the bed’s single pillow to his chest. He was wearing a simple white shirt and pants, which Laurens recognized as standard-issue clothing, since regulations on the first floor didn’t allow patients to bring any of their own. Schneep didn’t look up as Laurens crossed the room and sat in the room’s only chair. Oliver, meanwhile, hovered in the corner, seeming to sense that he had to stay out of this.

“Hi, Schneep,” Laurens said. “I’m back. Sorry I wasn’t here yesterday.”

He nodded. “Was not your fault. You were sick. I’m sorry.” That last statement sounded less like an expression of sympathy and more like an actual apology.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault either,” Laurens said gently.

After a quiet moment, Schneep cleared his throat and asked, “The woman, the orderly from yesterday, is she alive?”

“Yes, she’s alive,” Laurens confirmed. Seeing how Schneep relaxed, she decided not to mention the critical condition.

He looked at her for the first time since she entered the room. And she almost physically started when she realized his eyes were rimmed with red. “It was not my fault. You know that, right? You believe that?”

“I know. I believe you.”

“You always do.” He nodded. “Or at least, you sound like you do. Even if you don’t and you only sound it, I appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem, Schneep.” And it really wasn’t. Laurens straightened. “Well, I have…news for you. I don’t know if you’ll see it as good or bad, but it’s news.” Schneep didn’t say anything, but he did sit up a bit. Laurens continued, “So, uh, yesterday, while I was sick, I met one of your friends. Chase. He said he…wanted to visit.”

A wide variety of emotions flickered across Schneep’s face. Surprise, joy, realization, worry, fear, consideration, then back to joy, though a bit tempered. “I think I would like to see him,” he said, squeezing the pillow tighter.

“I told him you would,” Laurens said. “He’s coming on Friday, three days from now.” She paused. “You think…you’ll be alright until then?”

A strangled laugh. “Is hard to predict. But I hope so. I would not want…anything to…happen.” The words were chosen haltingly, as if he was trying to find the simplest way to say it.

“Nothing’s going to happen,” Laurens said, surprising herself with the firmness of her own voice. “You’re doing good, you know. You can do it.” She wasn’t sure what ‘it’ was, but sometimes you just needed to hear it. “And I’ll be there that day, too.”

“That would be good,” Schneep agreed. For a moment, he was silent. “I…I do not feel like talking today. Would you leave, please?”

“Oh. Of course.” Laurens stood up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Yes.”

Laurens left, finding her steps taking longer than usual. She glanced behind her one last time before leaving to see Schneep had buried his face in the pillow. She hesitated. Maybe she should stay…but he seemed like he wanted to be alone. In the future, she might be able to bring something so she could be alone with him. After all, there were times when that was really what was best. But she couldn’t, today.

She followed Oliver back through the first floor halls. “That was…different than I was expecting,” he admitted.

“It usually is,” Laurens agreed. “But people aren’t just one thing, you know?”

“…yeah, I think so.”

“Good.” Laurens took a deep breath, and sighed. Three days. She just had to hope things would improve in three days. And then she had to believe things would continue to improve from there.

And somehow, she did. Perhaps she was more optimistic than she’d thought she was, but she believed things would get better. They usually did.


	4. Meetings and Measures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase finally meets up with Schneep again, and Dr. Laurens tries out a new form of therapy that she thinks could be helpful.

The three days seemed to pass by in a blur, until all of a sudden it was Friday. Dr. Laurens found her stomach constantly twisting itself in knots. This had to go smoothly, because…well, she wasn’t exactly sure what would happen if it went wrong. But she knew it would be bad for Schneep, and probably bad for her by extension.

Even waiting in the hall outside the visitors’ room, she couldn’t help but flutter nervously back and forth, pacing the length of the wall. “So how are you feeling today?” she asked. “Everything alright? Nothing—”

“Dr. Laurens, I am fine,” Schneep said, slowly massaging his temple. “You are worrywarting over nothing.”

“I know, I know, it’s nothing.” Laurens sighed. “I just—you know that if there’s an incident Dr. Newson is technically legally allowed to take away visiting hours? I-I don’t know if she would, but, um, just in case…”

Schneep’s face darkened. He looked away, muttering something about “that woman.” Laurens honestly didn’t blame him for being so antagonistic, given how his first meeting with her had gone. Honestly, Dr. Newson really wasn’t that bad, Laurens didn’t know why she had acted like that with him.

The door to the visitors’ room opened, and Oliver, who’d once again volunteered to be the orderly on duty, popped his head out. “Hey, so, he’s here.”

“Oh, Gott.” Schneep walked to the opposite wall, covering his mouth. He was breathing quickly, clearly nervous.

“Hey.” Laurens walked over, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “What were you just saying to me? I was worrying about nothing? It’s really going to be okay. You’re okay. And I’m going to be right there.”

Schneep made an effort to slow his breathing, lowering his hand. “You are right, you are right. Still, I-I am—I am sca—I-I do not want anything to…to happen.”

“Nothing’s going to happen. He’s going to be happy to see you.” When Schneep still hesitated, Laurens added, “And if you start feeling overwhelmed, or if anything shows up, it’s okay to leave.”

Schneep closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, then opened them again. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Laurens smiled encouragingly. “Alright. Here, I’ll go in first. Come on.”

The visitors’ room looked like someone had taken a living room from a suburban house and tried to remodel it into a hospital waiting room. There were couches, armchairs, lamps, coffee tables and end tables, all in shades of beige and brown. There were magazines and books on the tables, along with a few coloring books and crayons in case kids visited. A wide window on one wall showed a view of the parking lot.

Chase was sitting on one of the couches, curled against the armrest, one of his legs bouncing. He took his phone out of his jacket pocket, looked at it, and then put it back. He exhaled slowly.

“Chase?” Laurens asked. “You ready?”

“Huh?” Chase looked up. “Oh yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Good.” Laurens looked behind her. Schneep stepped into the room, partially hiding behind her for a second before stepping out. Oliver followed, closing the door behind him.

Schneep took a deep breath. “H-hel—hi, Chase.” He froze, waiting.

“Oh my god.” Chase stood up, quickly crossing the room to stand in front of Schneep. For a moment, the two of them just stared at each other, Schneep on edge, Chase looking up and down, taking in all the details. Then, after a moment, Chase reached forward and grasped Schneep’s arms, patting them down like he couldn’t really believe he was here. He broke into a grin. “Oh my god, it’s really you.”

Without warning, Chase suddenly pulled Schneep into a hug. Oliver made as if to step forward, but Laurens put out an arm to stop him, shaking her head slightly. Let them have this. After a moment of surprised processing, Schneep wrapped his arms around Chase in turn, burying his face in his neck. “I missed you…” Schneep said, voice barely audible.

“I missed you too, Doc.” After a moment more, Chase broke the hug. “What are we doing? Come on, sit down, we gotta talk.” He grabbed Schneep’s hand and pulled him back over to the couch.

Laurens exhaled quietly. She walked over and took a seat in the chair farthest from the two of them. She may have to supervise this, but she wasn’t going to butt in. Oliver, meanwhile, stood leaning against the wall.

“So, like, how is this place?” Chase asked, sitting down, Schneep taking a seat next to him. “I’ve been looking them up, they seem alright. But you never know.”

Schneep laughed nervously. “Is not too bad, I think. They have safety to think about, but they are doing what they can. And that is all you can really ask of them.” He coughed, clearing his throat. “But I am wondering much more about you. How are things? The kids? The others? I missed everything, tell me what I missed.”

“Well, last I checked, the kids were alright.” Chase’s eyes brightened. “We went to the planetarium for their seventh birthday. Sophie loved it, but I think Nick just really liked the blue frosting on the cake.” Chase chuckled, but his expression fell slowly.

“And…is Stacy doing well, too?” Schneep prompted gently.

“Yeah, I think so. I-I dunno, she hasn’t been…talking to me recently,” Chase muttered. “I think she’s mad at me for something, but I don’t know what.”

Schneep pulled his legs up onto the couch, folding them underneath him. “Well, if you think that, then you should find out what it is so you can work to fixing. Otherwise, you will keep being made at each other, and that is never good for anyone.”

A smile flickered across Chase’s face. “You sound like JJ.”

Schneep raised his eyebrows. “Who?”

“Oh, shit, that’s right, you don’t know who JJ is! Hang on.” Chase dug into his pocket for his phone again. “You’re not gonna believe this, we found the sixth doppelganger. His name’s Jameson, but we all call him JJ. Here, I have this picture of him and Jackie and me.” Chase passed his phone to Schneep, who held it close to his face, looking at the screen. “Marvin ran into him first, back in October at the theatre. They got to talking—well, not exactly—and eventually we all met up.”

“Huh.” Schneep passed the phone back. “What is he like? Is he nice?”

“Yeah, very nice. Sweet guy. Into old-fashioned things. Next time I see him, I should totally bring him over here to meet you.” Chase put his phone back in his pocket. “Oh, uh, actually…I forget, do you know sign language?”

Schneep blinked. “Well, I would be rusty, but I think I still know it. The British version, that is. Why?”

“Uh, well…” Chase bit his lip. “JJ doesn’t talk. He hasn’t told us if he can’t, or if he just doesn’t want to, but I’m not gonna pry. So, uh, if I do bring him to visit, he’d either need to bring a notepad, or you’d have to brush up on sign.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Schneep said, glancing over towards Laurens sitting quietly in the corner. She shrugged; she had no idea if the regulations would allow books on sign language. Schneep looked back. “So you mentioned Marvin. How is he? Is he fine?”

Chase winced. “I, uh…I don’t…know.”

Schneep could only stare. “You don’t know?”

“Yeah, he, uh…left.” Chase looked out the window. “Back in March. I don’t know what happened, he just left a note one day saying there was something he had to do. When I dropped by his apartment there was just that note on the door. It was locked and empty—he even took his pets with him. JJ told me he left town, but not why. And he’s not answering any of my calls or texts.” A sort of tone had entered his voice. It was a bit empty, a bit sad, a bit confused.

“Chase, is probably not your fault,” Schneep said, picking up on the tone. “Maybe it is just one of his witchy things.”

“Pfft. Maybe.” Chase grinned a bit. “Maybe it’s just him.”

“You never know.” Schneep looked down at his lap, fiddling with his fingers. “Chase, what about…Jackie? And Jack? Are they both…okay?”

The grin quickly fell. “Well…you know how Jack is, he’s still—”

“Is he dead?” Schneep suddenly asked, eyes wide.

“What? No! He hasn’t gotten any worse, but he…hasn’t gotten any better,” Chase admitted. “You know, since August. You were there.”

“I was there, yes.” Schneep had suddenly gotten very pale. He shook his head. “Jackie? What about Jackie?”

“Oh…” Chase was avoiding eye contact.

“Chase.” Schneep suddenly grabbed Chase by the front of the shirt. Standing nearby, Oliver stopped leaning against the wall and stood up straight. “Chase. Please tell me Jackie is fine. Just—just tell me.”

“I…can’t,” Chase admitted. “He…he’s…”

“He’s what?!”

“…missing,” Chase finished reluctantly.

Schneep stared at him a moment more, then shook his head. “No. No, you have to be mistaken, he can’t be—you all have to be—you are mistaken, yes? Yes?” His voice lowered. “Are you lying?”

“I’m not mistaken, and I’m not lying.” Laurens had to admit she was impressed at how calm Chase was. “Back in December. I think he was working on a case. He texted me, saying I wasn’t going to believe what he just found. And then he never responded. Wasn’t in his apartment. I…I don’t know what happened to him, he just…disappeared.”

After a moment of tension so thick you could cut it with a kitchen knife, Schneep made a strangled sort of sob, and let go of Chase’s shirt, turning away. He bowed his head and buried his face in his hands. Laurens could hear him muttering from where she was: “…no, no…no no no, nein…nein, nein, nein…bitte…”

“Hey…” Chase scooted closer. He hesitated for a moment, then rested his hand on Schneep’s back. “You…you okay, Doc?”

Schneep continued muttering for a bit, seeming to take a moment to register that Chase had spoken. “I…I do not…know…” he finally admitted, raising his head.

“I can leave, if you want—”

“No!” Schneep’s hand shot out and grabbed Chase’s jacket. “Please don’t. Just…stay a little bit longer. You do not need to say anything.”

“…okay.”

For a while longer, the two of them just sat together, Schneep curled against Chase’s side, Chase wrapping an arm around Schneep’s shoulders. Until finally, Schneep pulled away and mumbled, “You should probably leave now.”

Chase nodded. “Okay. But, uh, hey…” he smiled a bit. “See you next week, Doc? I can…I dunno, bring coffee or something.”

Schneep smiled back. “That would be nice. If you want to come next week, then…I-I guess I will see you.”

“Yeah, you will.” Chase gave Schneep a quick side-hug before standing up. “See you then.”

“Good bye.”

Schneep remained sitting on the couch as Chase exited the room through the other door, the door the visitors would come through. He sighed, quietly.

Laurens stood up awkwardly. She couldn’t help but feel like an intruder that entire time. Like she walked in on something secret. She cleared her throat. “Schneep,” she said gently.

Schneep jumped. “A-ah, sorry. Yes?”

“Do you mind if Oliver takes you back to your room? I want to talk to Chase about some things that I think could be helpful.”

“Oh. Yes, of course. I can follow him.” Schneep stood up. “Are you…is your shift much longer?”

“I can come check on you after, if that’s what you’re asking,” Laurens assured him.

Schneep visibly relaxed, though he quickly hid it. “If you can, of course, I do not wish to bother you.”

“It’s not a bother at all, I promise.” Laurens said. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

So, as Schneep followed Oliver back out the door leading to the hospital at large, Laurens hurried toward the visitors’ door, finding herself in the reception area. Chase was just about to walk through the front door out into the parking lot, but stopped when he saw her. “Oh. Hey,” he said. “Lauren, right?”

“Dr. Laurens. You can call me Rya, if you want.” Laurens closed the gap between him and her. “I just wanted to ask you a few questions real quick. It, uh, shouldn’t take too long.”

“I don’t have anywhere to be. Shoot.”

“Okay. Um…” Laurens didn’t have her notebook with her, but she explored her pockets for a little bit and found a napkin and a pen. She smiled nervously. “Okay, so the first question is really just to help me understand. Regarding your friends Marvin and Jackie, I heard you two mention Marvin does ‘witchy’ stuff and Jackie was working on a ‘case’? Is that about their occupations? I’m just a bit confused.”

“Ah, okay, I get it.” Chase leaned against the wall. “The ‘witchy’ stuff isn’t Marvin’s job, he actually works at a clothing shop. But he does…I dunno, witchy stuff. Like crystals and wands and pentagrams, you know? He’s Wiccan, too. And Jackie’s a P.I.—a private detective. He used to be a cop, but he preferred deciding his own schedule and cases.”

“Oh, okay, thanks, that explains it.” She didn’t bother writing that down. “Now, uh, onto the more important questions. Were you and the others in your group aware of Henrik’s issues? Before all this…uh, happened.”

“Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say we never expected it to get serious enough for murder,” Chase remarked dryly. “But, uh, yeah. Jack actually went with him to get the diagnosis. As moral support.”

“Okay.” Laurens wrote a quick note on the napkin. “And he never seemed at all hostile before?”

“I mean, a little, but no more than a normal person.” Chase shrugged. “You know, he got in arguments a lot, stuff like that. Never _violent,_ though.”

She suspected as much, but it was good to get confirmation. “And this may sound weird, but, doesn’t he have an ex-wife? He doesn’t talk about her much, is their relationship…rocky?”

Chase laughed. “Oh no, they’re actually pretty good. Nah, Mina actually separated from him because she thought he needed time to sort his own life out before making commitments. I mean, they were already married, but you know what I mean. Hen was under a lot of stress, he didn’t have a diagnosis yet so he didn’t have medication and it was all going crazy, the two of them just really weren’t in a good situation. I don’t know why they haven’t gotten back together, and I don’t really plan on asking, you know?”

“Okay.” That last note took up nearly the rest of the napkin. She had to be quick. “One last question. I’ve noticed that Henrik often talks about a, uh…well, he doesn’t really talk about it, but he’s mentioned a…I don’t know, a ‘him’ before. Like a strange man. I think it might be the main problem behind this mess. Does that sound familiar to you? Has he ever mentioned something like that to you, like a strange man that he’s afraid of?”

Chase’s brows furrowed. “No, that sounds like a new one. You sure that’s one of his mind things and not like, an actual guy?”

“I think so. He seems to respond to…seeing something, even if it’s just me and him in the room.”

“Yeah, no, I can’t help you there.”

“I see.” Laurens made her final note. “Okay, thank you, Chase. You can go now.”

“Yeah. Uh…hey.” Chase pushed away from the wall, leaning a bit closer to Laurens. “He’s doing okay, right? He…I don’t know, seemed kind of…not doin’ so good.”

“I think he’s going through a tough spot right now,” Laurens confided. “We had to move rooms, he had a more severe episode recently…I think he just needs some time to process this.” Laurens perked up. “But I think he really liked seeing you. You’re planning on coming again, right?”

“Yeah, of course I am.” Chase almost sounded offended at the suggestion that he might not.”

Laurens smiled. “That’s great. I’ll see you next week, then?”

“Count on it. And, uh, Laurens?” Chase paused. “Just…watch out for him, okay?”

“Don’t worry, I will.” Laurens gave a thumbs up. It was her job to do so. But even if it wasn’t, she would anyway.

“Thanks. See you next week. G’bye.” And with that, Chase left.

Laurens started to head back, deeper into the hospital. She tucked the napkin with notes back into her pocket, along with her pen. Those few questions had helped a little bit, and she thought she was starting to understand a bit more about Schneep. But there was still that key she was missing. What was the “he” that Schneep kept seeing, that kept terrorizing him? If that piece of the puzzle would just be filled in, she was sure she’d be able to at least start towards a permanent way of helping him.

Well, maybe she could find a way to get him to open up without him shutting down. In fact, something in the visitors’ room had given her an idea. Now she needed to get the supplies ready for the next session.

* * *

It turned out she had to wait until Monday. The next day, Saturday, wasn’t a good day. Schneep wasn’t responding well, tending to stare off into space, taking ten minutes to realize she said something. Then Sunday was her day off, but the day after that she was ready.

Laurens walked into Schneep’s new room, Oliver still following behind her like he was now required to do. She still wasn’t used to that, but at least she only had to accommodate one person, and not a set of ever-changing orderlies. And at least he only ever waited in the corner and didn’t try to interrupt. “Hello, Schneep,” she said, taking her place in the room’s single chair. “How are you today?”

Schneep, previously laying on his back on the bed, sat up and looked at her. “I have…been better,” he admitted. “But I am also very, very bored.”

“That’s understandable,” Laurens said, setting her bag on the table. “There’s not a lot to do here. You know you’re cleared to go down to the TV room with others, right? Since someone’s always in there. Your door’s not locked from the inside, you just need to get someone to walk you back.”

“I never watched a lot of television,” Schneep shrugged. “Except, ironically enough, some doctor shows.”

“I see.” Laurens nodded. “I’m trying to get more books in here, you know. But Dr. Newson is being very particular about it.”

“Of course she is,” Schneep muttered.

“Well, it’s time to get started for today,” Laurens said hurriedly. “I’ve decided to do something a little different, but bear with me.” She began rummaging around in her bag.

“I will take different, as long as…” Schneep trailed off. “Are those crayons?”

“They are.” Laurens had pulled out a pack of crayons. “I got one of the big ones, for the color variety. It has two blacks And also…” She took out a sketchpad of drawing paper.

Schneep was well and truly confused. “Are we doing arts and crafts today?”

“Art therapy can be very helpful, I’ve read studies,” Laurens said defensively.

“Okay, okay, if you insist.” Schneep scooted closer to the table. As there was only one chair in the room, he was stuck sitting on the bed. “Why crayons, though?”

“Well, uh…you’re not allowed colored pencils. And neither are a lot of the others here.” Laurens tore off two sheets of drawing paper. “I think we should start with something simple. A self-portrait.”

“Are you doing this too?” Schneep asked, surprised.

“Well, I thought it would be better than just me staring at you, watching you draw.” She passed one of the sheets to Schneep’s side of the table. “Unless you’d rather not…”

“No, is fine.” Schneep stared down at the blank paper. “I was never good at drawing people. Things, yes, but faces are hard. I do not understand how Jackie…” He trailed off, face suddenly gray.

“…well, it’s not about being realistic,” Laurens said slowly. God, she hated to interrupt him while he was thinking about his missing friend, but this session only lasted an hour. They needed to make the most of the time. “Just about drawing.” She opened the crayon box. “Are you ready?”

“…yes.”

“Good. Let’s go, then.” She grabbed one of the black pens and immediately started drawing. After a moment, Schneep followed suit.

Five minutes later, they were both done. The drawings were really simple—Schneep had given up on realism and her art skills were nonexistent in the first place. Schneep glanced over at Laurens’s self portrait. “Not very accurate,” he said, a smile curling around his lips.

“Even with the big box they still don’t have the right shade of brown,” Laurens sighed.

“Well…I suppose this is for you to see.” Schneep passed his drawing to her.

Besides being simple, it actually did look a lot like him. Laurens did notice he had drawn himself wearing glasses, as well as one of his casual outfits. 

“That’s good,” Laurens said. “I’m going to save that, so we can talk about that next time. For now, I have more things for us to draw.”

Schneep rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile on his face.

Laurens had prepared a whole list of drawing prompts. The concept she was going for was something simple, but that she could learn more from. “Draw your favorite animal,” “Draw your most relaxing place,” “Draw a beautiful person,” things like that. The drawings eventually stacked into two piles: hers and Schneep’s. She wasn’t too concerned with her own pile; maybe she could use them to analyze herself one day if she was bored. But she would look over Schneep’s drawings every time.

After a while, Laurens said, “We’re almost out of time, believe it or not. But there’s one last one we need to do, and it’s…it’s pretty important.” Laurens took a deep breath. “What we’re going to draw…is what we’re, um…what we’re most afraid of. Not anything existential, but something that’s an actual…thing.” She was watching Schneep’s face as she said this, looking for signs that she was pushing too hard. “Got it?”

Schneep had gone very still the moment she started talking about it. His eyes flicked down to the new blank sheet of paper, and then suddenly over to the side, like there was something there that was important. They stayed locked there. 

“Schneep? Henrik? Are you there?” Laurens reached forward and gently shook his shoulder.

He flailed suddenly, then tried to calm down, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yes, yes, I am here. I heard you.”

“Okay…are you good?” She asked gently.

Schneep took a shaky breath and opened his eyes. “Y-yes.”

“Alright. Now…if you’re ready, we’re going to draw now, okay?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Let’s go.” Laurens picked up a random crayon, then stared down at her blank paper. What was she supposed to draw?

Schneep had no such hesitation. He immediately snatched up a black crayon and a green crayon and started scribbling. He kept his head bent low, not taking his eyes off the paper, as if scared of what he would see when he looked up.

They finished at the same time. Laurens looked down at her paper, started, then put the drawing at the bottom of her stack.

“Here.” Schneep shoved the drawing at her. “If you have to see, then you have to see. Perhaps it is better that you do.” He looked down at the table surface.

Laurens blinked, then looked down at the drawing.

It was a mess of black and green. Scribbles and scratches formed a humanoid figure, with eyes and smile green on a black face. It looked like it had a deliberate outline, not just a vague shadow meant to sort of resemble a human. But at the same time, there were scribbles, mostly green, seeming to come off the figure’s limbs, breaking it apart. Across the figure’s neck was a long red line, traced over and over, and it looked like it was dripping.

“Oh…” Laurens whispered. “Schn…Henrik, is this—”

Suddenly he was leaning across the table, his hand pressing against her mouth. She was so shocked that she almost fell out of the chair. There was a movement in the corner of the room, and Laurens glanced over. She’d forgotten Oliver was in here. She waved him down. She wasn’t in any danger.

“Do not… _say_ anything,” Schneep hissed. His face was very white. “Do not, do not, is only bad. You know this, do not ask for more. He wants.”

Slowly, Laurens nodded her head. Equally slowly, Schneep backed down, taking his hand away and leaning back onto the bed. “I…think our time for today is up,” Laurens said, placing the latest drawing on top of Schneep’s stack. “Thank you for trying this today. We’ll talk about…most of these…tomorrow.”

Schneep nodded. His eyes were wide, trying to see everything at once. They kept wandering over to that same spot.

“Um…Schneep…” Laurens cleared her throat. “You’ve been remembering to take your medication, right?” She had no way of knowing, recently the delivery of the meds had been moved to the morning, before the session.

He nodded again.

“…alright. I’ll be going now.” Laurens stood up, gathering the drawings, crayons, and pad of leftover paper and placing them in her bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Another nod. He wasn’t looking away from the spot now.

“Alright…goodbye.” Laurens slowly walked over to the room’s door, and, followed by Oliver, left. The minute they were outside with the door closed behind them, she turned to Oliver and asked, “Do you think we should’ve stayed with him? He didn’t look…good.”

“He’ll…probably be fine,” Oliver said.

“Probably…” Laurens repeated. “You…go on, Oliver. I’m going to just…stand here for a bit.”

Oliver was clearly reluctant, but left anyway, and Laurens was alone standing outside the door to Room 1010. She stood there for a while. She wasn’t sure how long. But inside the room, she started to hear a voice. Shouting. Shouting with that trembling tone where one was both angry and scared. It didn’t last long.

Laurens looked down at that last drawing. It…honestly wouldn’t look out of place in a horror movie. And she thought about something…

If this was what Schneep was seeing so often, it was no wonder he was so scared of it. Of him.


	5. Pills and Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things aren't going so well, for Chase, Schneep, or Dr. Laurens, but Laurens thinks she's found something...interesting, and maybe helpful.

“No, no, I understand. It’s fine. How long will you be gone, again? Oh, okay. Can you…tell me when you get back? Thanks. Tell them hi from me. Goodb—” Chase pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at the screen. She’d hung up pretty quickly. Did that mean she was still mad? Or not? He still wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to upset her in the first place, so he couldn’t figure it out. Chase sighed, leaning forward until his head hit the bathroom mirror.

The doorbell rang.

He looked up, frowning. He wasn’t expecting anyone…still, why not check? A short walk out of the bathroom and down the hall lead him back to the living room. The bell rang again. “Okay! I’m coming,” he said, reaching the front door. He pulled it open. “Oh…hi.” He blinked. “I wasn’t…what’s up? What’re you doing here?”

The familiar face on the other side of the door smiled at him. _I came to check in on you,_ JJ signed. _That’s not illegal, is it?_

“No, just unexpected.” Chase paused, then started, remembering his manners. “Oh, you want to come in? I can make tea or something.”

_How about I make the tea? I feel you always make it improperly._

“Okay, wow, excuse me for not being British.” Chase raised his hands as if in surrender. Then he stepped aside. “Anyway, come in. Sorry about the mess.”

JJ breezed inside and ended up standing in the middle of the living room, hands on hips. He was wearing one of his more casual outfits today: a tan button-up shirt with a bow tie and one of his pocket watches on a fine chain around his neck. It may have looked odd on anyone else, but JJ had the sort of style to pull it off. The shoulder bag was a little out of place, though. _It’s not as messy as you think,_ JJ signed swiftly. _You’re doing better at cleaning!_

“Thanks.” Chase shut the door. “Uh, you want to go to the kitchen?”

_Yes, let’s._

Once in the kitchen, JJ made a beeline for the counter, setting his bag on the nearest stool. _So how are you?_ He asked. _What’s been going on in your life?_

“Uh, nothing much, really.” Chase leaned against the doorway. Nothing noteworthy, anyway.

 _Surely there must be something._ JJ started digging around in his bag, pulling out items.

“I mean…I-I dunno, it’s kinda all been—” Chase stopped. “Jays. What is that?”

 _It’s a knife._ JJ held up said knife, flipped open the blade before closing it again, set it on the counter, then continued rifling through the bag.

“Why do you have a knife?”

JJ took a moment to pull a small box out of the bag before pointing at himself, then making a sign with both hands. Literally, it translated to _protection_ , but Chase had spent enough time interpreting JJ’s signs to understand that what he was actually trying to say was _Self-defense._

“Well, I guess that makes sense, but this is a pretty safe city. I don’t think it’s worth carrying a knife around.”

 _You own a gun,_ JJ pointed out dryly.

“Yeah, but—I mean, I-I don’t carry it around,” Chase stuttered.

 _To each their own,_ JJ shrugged. _You can never be too safe. Anyway._ JJ picked up the small box, opening it and pulling out a couple of tea bags. _I hope you don’t mind I brought a different blend._

“No, go ahead. Wait.” Chase’s brow furrowed. “How did you know we would make tea?”

_It’s what you always do when you have visitors: offer them tea._

“Well…I mean, I guess you’re not wrong. I did the same thing with that doctor lady who dropped by a couple weeks ago. Did I tell you about that?”

JJ paused in his tea making. _I don’t believe you did._

“Well. She did.” Chase scuffed at a spot on the floor. “That’s how I knew about…Schneep.”

_Your friend in the hospital._

“Yeah.” Chase paused. “Y’know I think you two would get along. You should come with me one week for visiting hours.”

JJ was already shaking his head. _I wouldn’t want to intrude on what time you have together._

“It wouldn’t be an intrusion. I mean, I’d tell him before hand, he’d probably remember.” That was only a ‘probably.’ But JJ didn’t need to know that.

JJ was silent for a while, not looking at Chase as he set the kettle on the stovetop. After a moment he raised his hands, hesitated, then signed, _Well, maybe. One day in the future, when you two have had more time to get reacquainted with each other. After all, tomorrow will only be your…third visit, is it?_

“Well…it would, but…” Chase shifted on his feet. “That same doctor lady gave me her number last time, and I gave her mine. She said she’d put me down as an emergency contact. Then yesterday, she called me saying it…maybe wouldn’t be a good idea to show up tomorrow.” He mumbled that last part, almost not wanting to say it.

JJ looked at him, surprised. _Why?_

“Apparently, he—Schneep, he’s…not doing good,” Chase said slowly. “And the doctor—I think her name is Rya—said that if anything went wrong during the visit, then they could revoke visiting rights, and she thought it would be best not to risk that.” Chase closed his eyes and sighed. “I mean, I guess it’s a good idea. Better to miss one than lose them altogether.”

For a moment, there was quiet. Then there was a loud clapping sound and Chase jolted, opening his eyes. JJ looked him straight in the eyes and clapped his hands once more. “Oh, uh…sorry, guess that’s a little rude.” Chase folded his arms, trying to shrink into himself. “Didn’t realize.”

 _It’s alright, just remember to keep your eyes open next time,_ JJ signed. _Anyway, I’m sure it’ll be fine. There’s always next week._

“Yeah, there is. It’s just…” Chase hesitated. “It’s just…I just got off the phone with Stacy before you showed up. She’s…taking Sophie and Nick on vacation for a week. So…I-I’m not going to see them this weekend.” Chase blinked rapidly. “I-I guess it’s just that—I don’t know, just both these things happening together, it just…”

JJ didn’t say anything. He crossed the room to stand opposite Chase, placing a hand on his shoulder. Then he gently pushed him over to the kitchen table, where he pulled out a chair and pushed Chase into it. He held up one finger as if asking him to wait, then returned to the counter. Chase watched as he finished the tea, pouring two mugs before approaching the table once more. He set one mug down in front of Chase and then took a seat himself. _Now, everything’s better with tea,_ he signed.

Chase laughed a bit. “You’re not wrong.” He took a sip. It was a sweeter blend than he was used to, but not bad.

 _Chase, I hope you know you’re stronger than you think,_ JJ signed. _You’ve gotten through all your bad days so far, I believe you can handle the next few days as well. And if you need anything, you can always text me. I’ll answer._

“I guess…”

_You don’t guess, you know. You are a capable, good man, Chase, and you can take care of anything life throws at you._

For a moment, Chase just stared at Jameson. “Hey, Jays…?” The words stuck in his throat. He couldn’t say enough. His best friend was in a coma, another friend had been blamed for murder and sent to a mental hospital, and then two more had disappeared off the face of the earth. How could he say how much he appreciated Jameson for staying with him through all that, for being there through the dark times? “…Thanks,” he finally said. “Just…thanks.”

JJ smiled. _You’re welcome. Now, how are you feeling?_

“A little better.”

_It’s the tea._

Chase laughed. “I bet it is.” 

* * *

Across the city, Dr. Rya Laurens was in the employee break room at Silver Hills, hurrying to finish her lunch. Normally she would’ve eaten earlier, but that persistent…cold, or whatever it was she had a few weeks ago, was back, and her foggy brain had forgotten until now.

Someone cleared their throat nearby, and she looked up. Oliver was standing some ways away, looking awkward. “Hey Doc, you ready to go?”

Laurens held up her hand, chewing quickly. She was aware it was almost time for today’s session. She wished she could take her food with her, and some for Schneep, too, like their old lunchtime sessions back in the old room. But Dr. Newson had forbidden it, saying that anything in the lunch that hadn’t been approved could technically be used as a weapon. Laurens didn’t use the word “bullshit” often, especially not at work, but…she shook her head. Dr. Newson probably knew what she was doing.

After a moment, she quickly stood up, swept the remains of her food into the nearest trash can, and grabbed her notebook. “Ready now. Let’s go.”

It was a bit of a walk from the break room to the Room 1010. Long enough for Laurens to start to feel the awkwardness between her and Oliver. She coughed. Making conversation was better than nothing. “So…how have you been liking this assignment? I know orderlies usually do a whole bunch, does this feel…different?”

Oliver frowned, considering. “It’s definitely not what I was expecting, I’ll tell you that.”

“Well, what were you expecting?”

“…I don’t know.” Oliver paused, looking almost embarrassed. “It sounds stupid, but something more…I don’t know, risky. I thought I was being brave, but he hasn’t done much.”

Laurens considered. “I-I mean, you were there when the accident with Theresa happened. It makes sense that would form an…impression on you. But you know that the people here really aren’t scary.”

“I know. But there’s something different when one of them killed thirteen people.”

“It’s alright, I was nervous too. But Schneep’s okay, he just needs help.” Even if lately…it almost seemed like they were making backwards progress. He’d become more withdrawn over the last few days, sometimes not even acknowledging that she was in the room with him. Always seeming to look at something she couldn’t see, hissing things under his breath that she couldn’t understand, no matter what language the words were in. She just…really hoped this was just a bad couple of days, and not a sign of something deeper.

They arrived at the room. Laurens took out her key card, swiped it through the reader, and opened the door wide enough for her and Oliver to walk inside. The room was unchanged from the last session. Schneep was sitting on the bed, hugging the pillow to his chest and slowly rocking back and forth. He didn’t look up when Laurens walked over to the room’s one chair and sat, setting her notebook down on the table. “Hi Schneep,” she said. “How are you doing today?”

Schneep didn’t answer, or even acknowledge her. His eyes were fixed downward.

“Did you know it’s been almost three months since you’ve come here?” Laurens asked. “The sixth will mark three months exactly.”

Still no response.

She could already tell this probably wasn’t going to be a productive session. But she had to try. “Um, there’s something we really need to talk about.” She started thumbing through the pages of the notebook. “I know I keep bringing this up, and I know you don’t want to say anything about it, but it really needs to be addressed, so I can better understand where you’re coming from. So…” She pulled out a loose piece of paper that had been tucked in close to the binding. Unfolding it and setting it down on the table revealed it was the drawing Schneep had done during their session a couple weeks ago. The one that she was pretty sure was the thing he kept seeing. “Are you feeling up to telling me anything about this?”

That finally got Schneep’s attention. He raised his head and his eyes flicked down to the drawing on the table. Laurens saw his grip on the pillow tighten. He shook his head. “Nein. Nein, nein…du sollst nicht darüber…” He trailed off.

“I can’t understand you,” Laurens said gently. “Um…ich spreche kein deutsch?” She hoped that she wasn’t mispronouncing anything.

Schneep looked up at her. “Why do you say it, then?”

Laurens blinked. “Ah…”

It didn’t seem like Schneep was waiting for an answer. His head tilted upward as he looked at the ceiling. “Die Augen…” he muttered. “They are back. Though I think they are always there. Always watching.”

Laurens flipped to a different page in her notebook. The ‘watching’ seemed to be a recurring theme for Schneep. Obviously some form of paranoia, but what was causing it? She glanced down at the drawing. “You say that a lot. Who’s watching?”

He looked back at here, irritated. “Die Augen. The, the, the…eyes. From your face.” Back up at the ceiling. “I think they fell out, but now they watch.”

She took out her pen and made a note. “Why do you think they do that?”

“Is because of—” He stopped short.

Laurens leaned forward. “Because of what?” She paused, waiting for an answer and getting none. “You can tell me, you know? If you don’t want anyone else to know, I won’t say anything. I just need—”

“No.” Schneep shook his head. “No, nein, nein. Should not say in the first place.”

“Why is that?” Laurens waited for an answer. Schneep didn’t respond, and instead intensified his rocking. “Schneep…Henrik, do you think…will something bad happen if you tell someone?”

Schneep made a small sound, something in between a whimper and a groan. One hand reached up and started rubbing at his neck. 

She waited for a long time, thinking maybe he just needed a while to answer. But it was clear he had no intention of saying anything. She looked down at the drawing again, then reached forward and tapped it. “Something to do with this?”

Schneep suddenly burst into laughter, shaking his head. Laurens jumped a bit at the surprise of it, but quickly calmed herself. It wasn’t long before the laughter started sounding strained, forced. More like crying. And the hand at his neck was—“Henrik, stop that!” Laurens shot to her feet and was soon in front of him, her hand darting out to grab his wrist and pull it away. There were red marks on his throat where his nails had been scratching at it. Schneep made eye contact with her, a wide grin lighting up his face but not his eyes. His other hand reached up and started doing the same, clawing, clawing at the skin. Laurens hurried to grab that one too.

For a moment, the two of them were frozen, staring at each other. And then the grin dropped from Schneep’s face. His eyes widened, and he seemed to shake a bit. Then with no warning at all, he threw his head backwards and hit it against the wall.

Laurens shrieked. “Henrik! Stop it!” Schneep didn’t seem to hear her, hitting his head again. Laurens looked toward the corner of the room. Oliver was standing there, as always. He was half-reaching towards her, hesitating, as if waiting for something. She looked at him and jerked her head towards the situation. And within moments, he was with them, holding Schneep’s arms securely to his side and keeping his head from moving any more. Schneep kept shaking. A small tear trickled from one eye.

Oliver looked at her. “I have some sedatives, if you—”

“No.” Laurens cut him off. “Not right…” But then she trailed off. Now, standing as close to the bed as she was, she noticed something odd. A lump. More than one, actually. After a moment’s hesitation, she reached forward, underneath the loose blankets, and felt around until her fingers wrapped around a small, round object. She pulled it out. Her eyes widened. “Henrik…” she held it up for him to see. “This is one of your pills. And it looks like there are more.” Her eyes widened. “You haven’t been taking your medication, have you?”

Schneep squeezed his eyes shut.

“For how long? A-and why?”

“Was not working,” Schneep muttered, opening one eye. 

“You’re supposed to _tell_ us that, Schneep!” She said, shocked. “So that we can change it! It doesn’t help anyone if you just pretend to take it and then hide it. You _know_ this. If anything, this’ll just lead to—”

“It will _never_ work!” Schneep wrenched a hand free and grabbed her coat, pulling her a bit closer before Oliver slapped his hand away. “You do not understand, none of you! He will not go away! None of it will stop! It does not matter, does not matter! Because I tell you, this is different from the things I have seen in the past, h-he is—is—is—” Schneep cut himself off, breathing too quickly to get words out.

“Then help me understand, Schneep,” Laurens emphasized. She grabbed his dangling hand, squeezing it tight. “Because if I can’t understand, then I can’t do anything for you except keep switching your medication. And I want to do more.” She paused, making sure he was fully listening to her. “Now just breathe. Calm down, alright. You know the five things you can see exercise, right? Would it help if you did that now?”

Schneep’s eyes darted around the small room. He started muttering things under his breath, too low for her to hear. After a while, he turned his attention back to her. Still breathing heavily, still with a few tears escaping wet eyes, but better.

“Are you ready to keep going?” Laurens coaxed. “Or do you need more time?”

Schneep bit his lip, looking downward. “I hate this,” he muttered. “Hate it, hate it. I am supposed to be a doctor, supposed to heal, not hurt. But I am here because I have done that.” He blinked quickly.

“You’ve said before that this wasn’t your fault,” Laurens said gently.

“But it is my hands I see the red on.” Schneep shuddered. “Is him, I know it. H-he makes…makes me. Puts the thoughts and feelings inside my head.” He hissed. “Shove a needle down their throats and watch them choke on it. It is inside there, but I know it does not belong to me. Is not me, is not.”

“So, this ‘him’…he makes you do things that hurt people?” Laurens clarified.

Schneep nodded vigorously. “…you cannot say anything,” he said, making eye contact with her. “That is what he wants. It makes him…” He paused, looking for the right word. “…have…influence. Strength. The more you talk about him.”

Laurens nodded. “Well, then. That was very…brave of you, to tell me this, even though you know that.”

“…thank you.” Schneep blinked, a few more tears slipping by. “I-I…I am tired.“

“I can leave, if you want me to,” Laurens suggested. Once he nodded again, she turned her attention to Oliver, who immediately let go of Schneep, letting him slump sideways on the bed. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Schneep.”

“You know, is odd that you do this every day, and not every week,” Schneep said, staring into nothing. “I do not mind, though. It lets me know when it is a day, instead of just time passing.”

“I-I do what I can,” Laurens said. “See you then?”

“Yes. Of course.” He closed his eyes.

Laurens stood up, glanced at Oliver, and then the two of them proceeded to leave the room.

The moment the door was closed behind them, and they were back in the hallway, Oliver let out a breath and said, “That…you know, I felt like I shouldn’t have been as big a part of that as I was.”

Laurens adjusted her grip on her notebook, flipping it open and getting her pen ready. “Really? Personally, I…well…thank you. I don’t think that would’ve gotten anywhere if it had been just me in there.”

“No problem. Just doing my job.” Oliver paused. “Was that…was that good, what happened in there?”

“I don’t think that…ah, well, that the first part, I mean, would be good for anyone. But the rest was…actually very helpful.” Laurens wrote down everything that happened. The feeling of being controlled by something else…it wasn’t unheard of, she had other patients before who had similar feelings. And she finally felt like she knew enough so they could really start to solve this problem. It only took three months. “I guess I need to change his medication.” She bit her lip. “Do you think it would be helpful to also add…something more…I don’t know, calming? You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“I don’t want to—I mean, I—I just don’t want him to do something like that when someone’s not there to stop him,” Laurens finished quietly.

Oliver nodded. “It’s a good idea. And I’ll be honest, I’m surprised it wasn’t required from the beginning.”

“Well. I guess.” Laurens cleared her throat. God, her throat still felt a bit raspy. 

“No, I mean, really. So, Dr. Newson gave me the case file the other day. Said that since I was gonna be the number one orderly for this, I needed to know the details. There’s some…there’s some stuff in there, you know?”

Laurens paused. “It’s actually been a while since I read that.” She looked back down at her notebook.

“Well, you don’t need to read it again,” Oliver said awkwardly.

“Maybe I should.” Maybe, knowing what she knew now, it would shed some light on what had happened during those nine months.

* * *

She stayed late that night, planning to do exactly that. The case file wasn’t supposed to leave the hospital grounds, but there weren’t any rules against taking it to the break room. So at least she could be comfortable while reading about murder.

Thirteen people dead…that they knew of. There was always the chance of more, undiscovered. Though the ones they’d found, given the…scenes left behind, she really hoped no one else had gone through that. This whole time, for every one of them, did Schneep really think something was controlling him, compelling him to do such things? It would explain a lot, but not everything. For example, the initial incident, with Schneep’s friend Jack, the one in the coma. What had been the reason for the operation on him? Perhaps Schneep really thought he was saving him from something worse. But what? The ‘him’ he kept seeing?

And then there was the event that had happened last year in December. Over Christmas Eve night, actually. The series of videos sent to the police spoke more of some sort of…arrogant taunting, than anything Schneep had described so far. Like it was some sort of game, daring the police to find the victims before they all died. That was the incident that had clued the police into the severity of this case. Three people died that December night alone.

That December night…

Laurens put the file down. There was something she could barely remember, something else about December. Something she’d heard in the recent weeks. Scrunching her eyes close, she tried to recall where else she’d heard that, heard of some big thing going down in December. She had the vague feeling it was also related to Schneep, and that it was also…somehow tragic…

Her eyes snapped open. Wait. No, there was no way. Was there? Laurens searched through her pockets until she found her phone, taking it out and dialing a number she’d recently saved.

The other end rang for a while before it was picked up. “Hello? Who is it?”

“Hi, Chase? It’s me, Dr. Laurens. You gave me your number, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. I should probably save you to my contacts.” Chase paused. “Is…is something wrong? I mean, you did ask for my number as an emergency contact.”

“I’m not sure. I just…remembered something.” Laurens looked back down at the file. “I don’t mean any of this to sound insensitive, but…your friend. The one who disappeared?”

“Jackie?”

“Yes. You said he disappeared back in December, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember the date?”

Chase laughed dryly. “Oh, not like I’d forget that. I mean, the last text he sent me was on Christmas Eve.”

“The 24th.”

“Yeah. I made some joke about him working on a holiday. It…it wasn’t a good Christmas, you know. Just…panicking.”

Laurens stared down at the file. That overnight search the police had been led on…had happened the night of the 24th. “Okay. That’s—that’s good to know.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” she lied. “Just trying to sort things out. Thanks.”

“No problem. Oh, hey, uh…do you know if I should…come visit on Friday?”

She didn’t want to kill the hope in his voice, but she was afraid she had to. “I don’t know. It depends on what happens the next few days. If you can, I’ll let you know. Even if it’s just, like, an hour before visiting hours start on Friday. But just…plan for not coming.”

A pause. “Alright. Thanks for letting me know.”

“You should be able to come the week after,” she offered.

“Thanks. I, uh, gotta go.”

“Goodbye.” Dial tone.

Laurens stared down at the file. Two events, happening on the same day…Chase had said that Jackie was a private investigator, working on a case before he disappeared. Could he…have disappeared because…?

She slammed the file shut, breathing heavily. It could just be a coincidence. But what if it wasn’t? Should she tell someone?

Laurens felt a lump sink to the bottom of her stomach. She couldn’t let Schneep know about this. She couldn’t let him know that he could be responsible for the disappearance—and maybe worse—of one of his best friends.

She’d finish the file tomorrow. And by then, she’d know what to do.


	6. Changes and Challenges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Newson decides to drop in on Laurens's session with Schneep, and things don't exactly go well from there.

Dr. Laurens sighed, rubbing her eyes. Okay, she was good to go for today. She had the case file, her notebook, and a pen, and she’d made sure to eat beforehand. She was…weirdly tired, but ready. Now, she stood from her spot on the break room couch and went to leave. She opened the door, and gasped. “O-oh, Dr. Newson, you surprised me,” she laughed. “I didn’t expect anyone to be right there.”

Dr. Newson smiled. “Sorry about that, Rya. But hey, this is perfect. I was just looking for you.”

“You were?” Laurens couldn’t help a jolt of anxiety. Was she doing something wrong? “What about?”

“Well, do you mind if I sit in on your session today?”

“Uh…can I ask why?”

“Oh, you know.” Dr. Newson shrugged. “As the head of the hospital, I can sit in on any of your sessions. You remember that? Think of it as a quality check.”

She _did_ remember that was a policy. But… “I-I thought—I mean, you’ve never done that before.”

“I have, actually, just not for you.” Dr. Newson gave a tight smile, pushing a length of blonde hair out of her face. “Now, shall we?”

“Um…okay.” Laurens started down the hall, Dr. Newson on her heels. As they walked in silence, Laurens couldn’t help but feel…well, she couldn’t quite place it. She just didn’t think this was a good idea. Maybe if this session had been with any other patient she would’ve felt alright about it, but she only had one patient right now, and he’d already met Dr. Newson. And he didn’t like her.

Laurens arrived at Room 1010, seeing Oliver waiting outside the door. She nodded at him. “Hi.”

“Hey, doc.” Oliver then noticed Dr. Newson, and hurriedly straightened. “Oh, Dr. Newson! Um, hello. Wha-what are—how are you doing? What are you doing here?”

“I’m doing great, thank you,” Dr. Newson said cheerfully. “Just sitting in on Rya’s session today.”

“Uh. Cool.” Oliver folded his arms, then unfolded them, then folded them again, clearly nervous. He looked at Laurens. “So, uh, should we start?”

“Just real quick, one thing,” Laurens said. “You delivered his medicine this morning, right? Did you see him take it?”

“Yeah, yeah I did.” Oliver nodded. “Learned my lesson from two weeks ago, stayed to make sure.”

“Okay, great.” Laurens exhaled quietly. Things were starting to get a little better again, since she’d switched up Schneep’s prescription. Still a little rough, but it might even out after the transition period. At least he wasn’t banging his head against the walls.

“Um, what happened two weeks ago?” Dr. Newson asked, looking down at Laurens.

“Nothing too important, we sorted it,” Laurens hurried to say. It…wasn’t really Dr. Newson’s place to know, was it? Sure, she was her boss, but it wasn’t a policy to share details about medication with other doctors. “We should get started now. Let’s go.”

The three of them entered Room 1010. Schneep was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He looked over when the door opened, lifting his head when he saw Laurens. But then he noticed Dr. Newson, and his expression darkened to a scowl. He sat up. “What is she doing here?”

Laurens swallowed. Yep, not going to go well. She forced a smile. “Hi, Schneep. You know Dr. Newson, I know. She’s just supervising today.”

“Why?”

“I-it’s just a routine check. This happens sometimes,” Laurens explained.

Dr. Newson hadn’t taken her eyes off Schneep since walking in the room. “Hello, Henrik.”

“Do not call me that,” Schneep growled. “In fact, do not talk to me.”

“She’ll just be watching.” Laurens jumped in before Dr. Newson could say anything in reply. “It’ll be fine. Dr. Newson, if you would just stand over there.”

“Oh, of course.” Dr. Newson flashed another smile, then went to stand by Oliver, who’d taken his normal position in the corner.

Laurens tried not to look visibly relieved as she took her normal seat in the room’s chair, placing her notebook on the table in front of her. “So. How are we doing today, Schneep?” She asked.

Schneep kept glaring in Dr. Newson’s direction for a few seconds more, then turned to look at Laurens. “Fine, I suppose. I am feeling a bit…tired.”

He’d been saying that for the past week. “That could be a side effect of your new prescription,” she said. “If it stays like that for another week, then we should probably change it. Nothing else?”

“Not that I can think of,” Schneep said slowly. “I am a little bored, if I am being honest.”

“I can bring you another book?” Laurens suggested.

“That would be wonderful.”

She made a note of that to herself. “Alright. Got it. So when we last left off—”

“Excuse me.”

Laurens started, looking back over to the corner. “Yes, Dr. Newson? I—you know I can’t conduct the session if I interrupt?” She hoped that was a polite way to put it.

“Yes, yes, I know, it’s just—one thing.” Dr. Newson started twirling a length of hair around her finger. “I’ve been looking at your reports, and I’ve noticed you haven’t really talked about any of the… _incidents,_ you know? I’m just surprised. It’s been three months, after all.”

“Well…that hasn’t really been my top priority?” It came out sounding like a question.

“It’s just a little incredible, you know?” Dr Newson drawled. “It seems like understanding those would be important to understanding everything else.” She perked up. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you spend this session on one of those incidents? What about the Christmas one?”

Laurens was speechless for a moment. “Well, we had plans for today. Th-that seems a bit…counterproductive? And besides—”

“Dr. Laurens?” Schneep said quietly. “I-I do not mind.”

She looked back at him. “Are you sure? We don’t have to.”

Schneep pulled his legs up onto the bed, sitting cross-legged. He wasn’t looking at her. Or anyone in the room, really, his head turned to the side. “Is fine. It had to happen eventually, yes?” He sounded…resigned. “And I suppose if it will get her to stop her talking, we can talk about the Christmas one.” 

“Ah…okay, um…” Laurens picked up the case file and flipped through it. She hadn’t prepared for this. She had no idea what to talk about, and…and she didn’t want to think about the Christmas incident. Because thinking about that reminded her about what she discovered last week. That Schneep’s friend Jackie had disappeared the same day. She still wasn’t sure if that correlation meant that…that Schneep had something to do with…it could just be a random turn of fate. But she definitely didn’t want anyone else putting those pieces together, in case they jumped to conclusions.

She finally found the report in the file, quickly scanning over it, refreshing her memory. “Alright. Let’s start with something simple.” She looked up at Schneep. “How much of this do you remember?”

“I…” Schneep was now facing her, but his eyes glanced to the side again. “I remember…walking around town. Late at night. There was a list of places to go, five of them. And there were times to be there. And…” He broke off. 

That matched up with the police report. Five people had been taken during the previous few days, and on the 24th, the police had been sent a cryptic video message. It instructed them to puzzle out the locations where the five were being held, and if they didn’t reach the locations by a certain time, then they’d die. Of course, the police had immediately started the search, figuring out the hints in the video messages sent throughout the night. The entire department had stayed up overnight, keeping watch, but they still weren’t in time to save three. “I see…” Laurens said. “What about the messages? Can you tell me anything about them?”

“Those were made before,” Schneep muttered. “I just said what I was told to.”

“I see.” Laurens had never actually seen any of the video footage, but she knew what it contained. Among various imagery meant to freak viewers out, there were snippets of Schneep on the camera, sometimes giving clues for the next location, sometimes giving speeches that…well, quite frankly, didn’t sound like him at all. “Someone told you to say those things? Are you comfortable telling me who?”

Schneep flinched. “You know…” The two words were almost too quiet to hear.

Laurens nodded. “Alright, you don’t have to say anything else.” She turned to a page in her notebook, writing. She could figure who Schneep was referring to. This shadowy figure, who he felt controlled him. “Do you know why he would tell you to say that?”

Schneep shook his head silently. She recognized that she wasn’t going to get much more about the shadowy ‘him’ today. Honestly, she was lucky she got as much as she had so far, given how terrified Schneep was, saying that speaking about the shadow would give it power. Maybe she could ask again another time.

There was a dry cough. Laurens looked over to the corner of the room again. “Yes?”

“I’m so sorry to keep interrupting,” Dr. Newson said, not sounding apologetic at all. “But, well, you’re kind of tiptoeing around the subject, aren’t you?”

Laurens blinked. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“You’re talking about everything leading up to the incident, but not really the incident itself,” Dr. Newson explained. “You know?”

“I don’t know, actually.”

“The three people,” Dr. Newson explained. “The ones who were…” She stopped, uncharacteristically silent for a moment. “You know, those ones.”

Schneep had flinched again the moment Dr. Newson had mentioned ‘the three people,’ shrinking in on himself. He started shaking his head the moment she was finished. Laurens looked over at him. “We don’t have to talk about them. We can continue—”

“I mean,” Dr. Newson interrupted. “It seems pretty important. Did we ever really get a motive from him? Maybe knowing that would help you do your job.”

“Do not talk about me like I am not here,” Schneep suddenly said. His eyes locked on Laurens. “I-I can tell you anything else about that night, but not—not the—not…that part.”

“That’s fine, we can get to that another time,” Laurens reassured him. “Now—”

“So if you believe something else is in charge of you, do you think it’s the one who did it that night?” Dr. Newson butted in. She took a step forward. “Or was it something else?”

“Um, excuse me,” Laurens said, straightening in her seat. She glanced over at Oliver, who was looking at her, confused and unsure about what to do. Laurens could only shake her head in return. She’d never seen Dr. Newson act like this. So…aggressively. “Dr. Newson, this is not your session. I-it’s not really very helpful, since we have a lot to cover in an hour.”

“Well, if you’re not covering the right things, then I don’t see why I shouldn’t step in to help,” Dr Newson said. “I mean, isn’t that something we want to know about? I checked the court records, you know, there’s nothing very clear about why he killed so many people by—”

Schneep suddenly stood up, eyes alight. “I do not know your problem with me, but please tell me! Or else shut your mouth before I shut it for you! Come back another time when there is not more important things to do!”

“Are you threatening me?” Dr Newson asked in a low voice. “I’m sure you remember how well that went last time! Believe it or not, we do have more secure housing than this that we could transfer you to.”

Schneep laughed. “You think I am scared of what else you can do to me? I assure you, it is not the worst I can think of! Why don’t you? And I will scratch your throat out when you try!”

“If you keep going down this path, then I’ll have to! I mean, why not? If the court hadn’t decided to send you here, they would’ve sent you somewhere even worse. This is a lot better than you deserve, you should be—”

“Dr. Newson!” Laurens yelled. “You will leave this room right now!”

Everyone fell silent. Newson stared at Laurens, as if processing her words. “…I’m sorry?”

Laurens took a deep breath. “You will leave this room right now. You are disrupting what’s supposed to be a healing experience. We can’t continue if you’re going to keep on like this.”

The silence continued stretching. Newson didn’t look away from Laurens, who held her gaze. After what felt like ages, Newson took a step back. “Very well.” She turned on her heel, heading towards the door. But not before throwing out one last comment: “On second thought, I’m not sure I want to be in the same room as someone who killed his best friend.”

Schneep stiffened, backing up. He’d gone very pale. “Wh-what?”

Newson turned around. “Well, I don’t know if he was your _best_ friend, but he was one of them, wasn’t he?”

“Who are you…?” Schneep croaked out.

Laurens wondered the same for a moment, but then her veins ran cold. No…Newson couldn’t have possibly figured out…but then again, she did have access to the case file as well…

“The investigator one. Jackie Donovan? I checked his missing person report; he disappeared on Christmas Eve, didn’t he?” Newson shook her head. “The very same day you were out wandering the streets, leaving behind videos for the police and killing innocent people.”

“You are lying,” Schneep said breathlessly. His hands were shaking. Laurens opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. “You—you are doing this on purpose! Trying to upset me!”

“You can throw any types of words at me, just don’t call me a liar. I can bring the report for you to see, if you really have to.” She sighed. “Guess you ran into each other that night. Maybe he saw what you were doing, and it wouldn’t surprise me if you decided it would be easiest to—”

Someone screamed, and Laurens suddenly found herself losing her balance and toppling to the floor as something shoved her. She caught herself with one hand, pushing herself to a kneeling position. Looking up, she realized Schneep had rushed past her, knocking her over to get to Newson. And Newson was now pressed against the wall, trying to cover her face in a futile attempt to defend herself. Schneep was on the attack, fists flying. And he kept screaming.

“Henrik, no!” Laurens shot to her feet, running over. “Oliver, help!”

Oliver was already on the move, trying to pull Schneep away. But Schneep was determined. He grabbed the collar of Newson’s coat, shaking her until her head slammed against the wall. Laurens grabbed his wrist in an attempt to break his hold, prying at his fingers. She didn’t succeed, but she distracted Schneep long enough for Oliver to grab his other arm, quickly inserting a needle and pressing down.

Schneep shrieked wordlessly, finally backing away, arms pinwheeling. It was too late, of course, the sedative was already in his system. He shook his head back and forth, covering his ears. “I did not kill him!” He screamed. “I did not kill him! No! No, I would never! It does not matter what happens to me, I would never!”

“Of course not, Henrik,” Laurens said in a soft voice. “I believe you.”

“No, you do not believe!” He laughed. “You never have, have you? You just say it so I stay under control. Like him. This is no different, is it? Nothing has changed. Nothing, nothing, nichts, nichts!” He staggered backwards, slumping against the bed. “I did not kill my friend. You could not make me, I would die before.” A shudder wracked his body. “No, I-I would know. If…if it was an accident, I-I would still know, and I would not. I would never. Please. Please…say I would never.” His voice cracked.

Laurens could see tears dripping from his eyes. She took a step forward. “You…you wouldn’t do that. Never.”

Schneep didn’t seem to hear her. He looked up at the ceiling, continuing to mutter and plead under his breath.

Behind her, Laurens heard a groan. She turned around to see Newson standing up straight, rubbing at a spot on her shoulder. “Jesus christ…” she muttered. “I…wasn’t expecting that.”

“Maybe you should’ve been,” Laurens mumbled.

“I heard that,” Newson snapped. She hissed as she moved her arm. “Wow. Hits hard for a…um. Anyway. Oliver, could you…?” She gestured vaguely at Schneep.

Oliver stared at her blankly for a moment before nodding, and crossing the room to stand next to Schneep. He leaned down, scooping him up. Schneep tried to resist, but the sedative was starting to kick in, so any struggles were reduced to small wiggles and loose gestures. His eyelids fluttered.

“Thanks,” Newson said. “I think he needs some time in the quiet room. You mind taking him there?”

“…sure,” Oliver said after a long hesitation. He glanced over at Laurens, and when she remained silent, he walked to the room’s door and left, carrying Schneep with him.

“And you. Dr. Laurens.” Newson turned her gaze on her. “You should go home.”

Oh shit. “Okay,” Laurens said quietly.

“Come in early tomorrow. I want to talk to you.”

“Okay.”

And without another word, Newson turned and left.

Laurens remained, standing in the center of the room, for a while longer. Her stomach sank as it really hit her what just happened. Well, she’d been right when she thought earlier that this wouldn’t end well. She’d never seen Newson so…god, she didn’t even know the words to describe it. Pushy. _Angry._ She’d seen Newson interact with other patients before, and she was totally different there. Actually helpful. Why did she hate Schneep so much?

And then Laurens had yelled at her to leave. She’d _yelled_ at her boss. It was starting to hit her that she might be fired. Which, maybe she would’ve been fine with under other circumstances, but now? She would be leaving behind a patient who needed her. Schneep trusted her, but it had taken three months to get to this point. He’d be alone, starting from square one with some other doctor. Maybe even Newson, and that would not be a pretty picture.

Laurens took a deep breath. Well, she’d have to argue her case really well tomorrow, then. She gathered her notebook and the case file, and left the room.

She picked up her things from her locker in the employees’ area, then headed towards the entrance. She was almost there when a familiar figure blocked her way. “Hi, Oliver,” she sighed. “Um…how did it go?”

“Good, I guess.” Oliver hesitated. “I-I just wanted to say that…that it was good that you stepped in when Dr. Newson was getting angry with him. That’s…that’s a decent thing. And I’m sorry I didn’t help much back there.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t even know I would be doing that,” Laurens said. “Hey, if…if anything happens to me, are you going to keep being the orderly for this case?”

Oliver looked down. “I mean, yeah, hopefully.”

“That’s good. You’re…you do a good job.” Laurens paused. If she got fired tomorrow, she’d like it if someone…she pulled out the keycard to Schneep’s room, then opened the case file and tucked it inside. She placed it on top of her notebook and held the pile out to Oliver. “Can you hold onto this?”

“Uh, sure?” Oliver looked confused, but he reached out to take it anyway, grabbing it. “Won’t you need it tomorrow, though?”

Laurens didn’t let go. She looked him in the eyes. “Could you. Hold on. To this?” She emphasized.

Oliver’s eyes widened, seeming to understand as he looked back and forth between the file and her face. He nodded vigorously. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Laurens breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks.” She let go of the file, letting Oliver take it. “I’ll…see you tomorrow, maybe.”

“See ya.”

And with that, she walked out, heading to her car.

* * *

_Ding._

The small sound was enough to wake Chase up. He sat up, wincing at a sudden shoot of pain in his neck. He must’ve fallen asleep on the couch…at around midday. Well, that was an unexpected nap, but it wasn’t a problem. It wasn’t like he’d had anything else planned. Rubbing his eyes, he picked up his phone from where it was sitting on the coffee table, checking the lock screen for a notification that would make that sound.

The first thing he saw was a text—from JJ. **Chase? I’m on break for an hour, do you want to meet up for lunch or anything like that?**

Chase smiled. It was nice of him to offer, but…his grin faded as he replied, **Nah, I dont really feel up 4 anything**

 **If you’re sure.** The first text was immediately followed by another. **Did you happen to leave your house at all this last week?**

**I went to go see Schneep on Friday.**

**And now it’s Wednesday.**

**Dont judge me.** Chase immediately winced after sending that one. **Sorry that came off rude I didnt mean it like that.**

The little text bubble appeared and disappeared again for a while, as if JJ was trying to figure out what to say. **So, have you had anything proper to eat or just takeout and macaroni?**

Chase didn’t bother to answer that one. He squirmed where he was sitting. He knew this was all well-meaning, but…he couldn’t help but feel like he was doing something wrong. Like he was about to get a bad grade in ‘being a person.’ **Its just been a rough couple of weeks** , he finally replied. **A low slump. It happens**

 **Seems like a pretty low slump** , JJ remarked. **Did you see the kids last weekend?**

 **Yeah.** It had been…exhausting. Four-year-olds had a lot of energy that he just couldn’t seem to keep up with recently.

**And that’s good, isn’t it? That’s a positive.**

**Yeah, guess so**. He paused. **Yknow I really appreciate you checking in on me, but you have other things to do, right? You dont have to keep doing this**

A long pause from JJ, as well. **I suppose you’re right, on some level. I do hope you know this isn’t an obligation, or anything. I check on you because I want to. But I suppose I can’t be there all the time. Which is why I’ve been wondering something…have you considered therapy?**

Chase bit his lip, thinking how to reply. Yeah, of course he had. But…he wasn’t _that_ bad, right? He didn’t really need it. And besides… **Isnt that kinda expensive? I dont have $400 to spare when I need groceries and stuff.** Not that he was buying those either, recently.

**Lol when will you catch on that all health care here costs a lot less?**

**Idk give me another year, well go for five. Anyway I dont even know where youd get a therapist**

**That’s what Google is for. Or I can give you mine’s number!**

Chase stared down at the text for a few moments before fully taking it in. **I didnt know you went to therapy**

**I do! Why do you think I’m never available Mondays at three?**

**I just kinda assumed you had work then, I dunno.**

**Well now you know.**

That…surprised him. He wasn’t sure why, he just…wasn’t expecting that to come from JJ. He didn’t want to pry, though, so he changed the topic a bit. **Im still not sure, bro. It just doesnt seem like I…idk what Im saying**

 **Well, at least consider it,** JJ sent. **And even if you decide against it, there are a lot of tips that can help you, I’m sure. Even something as simple as walking around the house can help lift a funk.**

 **Really?** Chase looked at the clock on his phone. God, last time he’d checked the time it was nine, now it was closer to two. He’d really just sat down and spaced out for five hours before falling asleep. That probably wasn’t good. **Maybe Ill try that**

He stood up, stretching, rolling his neck to work out the kink. Just walk around for a few minutes, huh? Maybe he could open the curtains a bit more, wasn’t there supposed to be some benefit to sunlight? He crossed the room to the window, pulling said curtains out more. As he did so, he looked outside.

Wait…what was that?

Chase squinted. There was someone standing out on the street, right across from his window. From this distance, it looked like a man. But he couldn’t see the face, because this person was wearing a black hoodie with the hood pulled up. The man had his hand raised to the side of his face, and…was it just him, or was the man looking right at his window?

But Chase had barely registered this question when the man lowered his hand, showing he’d been holding a phone to his ear. The man turned and continued down the street. So…maybe he’d just stopped to take a phone call? That made sense, didn’t it? Still, Chase felt uneasy.

Another _ding_ of a text notification from his phone. Chase looked down at the screen. **That’s the spirit! Tell me how it goes. :p**

Chase laughed a bit under his breath. **I will, bro** , he replied. He turned away from the window. Maybe he’d go into the kitchen, make something to eat that wasn’t just a bag of chips.

But he hesitated, turning back to look out the window once more. Something felt…wrong.

* * *

Laurens pulled up the driveway of her house, parking her car and getting out. What a day. And tomorrow…well, she had to make sure she said all the right things. She’d start planning right away.

“Hello?”

She shrieked, falling back against the car and reaching inside her purse.

“Whoa, hey, didn’t mean to startle you! Uh, sorry for dropping by without notice, my phone died.”

Her breathing slowed, and she relaxed as she recognized the voice and face. “Hi, Chase,” she said. “You scared me.”

“Yeah, uh. Sorry.” Chase shrugged, shifting on his feet.

“It’s fine,” she waved away. “Um, how’d you get here?”

“I drove a bit, but I didn’t want to park in front of anyone’s house in case that was weird, so I walked from the gas station,” he explained. “And I uh, found your address in the phone book. Cause you gave me your number.”

“I see.” Laurens nodded. “So…what’s up? I mean, why did you show up at my house in person?”

“I know, it’s weird, and I probably should’ve met you at Silver Hills, but they said you already left by the time I got there,” Chase said. “Anyway, like I said, my phone died, I lost my charger, and I wanted to talk to you about Henrik.”

“Okay.” Laurens sighed internally. This day just kept getting worse. “Well, we can talk about it inside.” She was tired. If more stress-inducing things were going to happen, at least she could be sitting down while they did.

Chase flashed a sharp grin. “Sounds perfect.”

She turned around. For a moment, she thought that Chase’s right eye had looked…a little bit weird, in a way she couldn’t exactly place.

And then a set of hands reached around and grabbed her, covering her mouth.

She cried out, kicking at “Chase’s” legs, but to no avail. The hands slammed the back of her head against the side of her car, and everything went dark as she immediately blacked out.


	7. Recognition and Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While visiting Schneep, things go awry for Chase and JJ, and Chase quickly catches on that something has changed.

Chase pulled his car into a spot, parking it easily enough. The lot was usually pretty empty, and having done this every Friday for a few weeks now, Chase had every moment of this down to a routine. Well, today that routine was slightly different. Because now JJ was sitting in the passenger seat, looking a bit uncomfortable as he stared at the front of the building.

“You okay, bro?” Chase asked.

JJ didn’t answer for a moment. Until: _Maybe I shouldn’t have come,_ he signed slowly. _Won’t it just be…weird, having a third person in the room with you?_

“There’s always a third person in the room,” Chase said, shrugging. “The doctor has to supervise it. Sometimes there’s another guy, too, one of the, uh…I don’t remember the word, but he works there.”

JJ bit his lip. _It’s different. This time there’ll be a stranger._

“Hey, I’ve told Schneep a lot about you, it’ll be fine,” Chase assured him. “It might be a little awkward at first, but I think you two will get along.” If Chase was being honest, he was a little nervous about the two of them meeting. He wasn’t exactly sure why; maybe it was just the possibility that things might go wrong. But he had to try. Schneep needed more people to talk to than a doctor and one friend, and since all his other friends were currently…unavailable, this was probably the best move. “We can wait in the car for a bit, if you want.”

 _No, no let’s do this._ JJ shook his head. _The more I think about it, the more likely it is that I’ll back out._

“Alright. Let’s go, then.” And with that, Chase opened the car door and stepped outside.

The routine once again took over. The two of them signed in for visiting hours at the front desk, then Chase showed JJ down the hall to the visitors’ room. Which looked the same as ever, furniture still beige and brown, books and magazines still on the tables. Chase sat down on the nearest sofa, taking out his phone to pass time while waiting. JJ didn’t sit, instead standing awkwardly near the wall like he was afraid to get too close to the center.

A few minutes later, Chase heard the door open, and looked up to see a blonde woman in a white coat standing in front of him. He didn’t recognize her. “Um…hi?” He said.

“Sorry, but are you…” The woman looked down at a clipboard, the same clipboard they’d signed in on at the desk. “Mr. Brody or Mr. Jackson?”

“Um…just call me Chase.”

“You’re here to see Henrik von Schneeplestein?”

“Uh…yeah…” After an unsure moment, he stood up. “Is…something wrong? Who are you?”

“My name’s Dr. Newson, I’m the head here,” the woman said coolly. “I just wanted to check to see if you were…sure.”

Chase blinked. “Sure about what?”

“Well…this visit.” Dr. Newson flipped through the pages on the sign-in clipboard. “I can see you’ve been here almost every week for about two months now. That’s great, consistency is a virtue. But today is…” She stopped, searching for a word. “…perhaps not the best day.”

“Um. Why?” Chase looked over Newson’s shoulder at the door on the other side of the room. “Where’s the usual doctor? Dr. Laurens?”

For a moment, something flashed across Newson’s face. Was it worry? Or something…guiltier? But it was quickly hidden behind a professional facade. “She hasn’t come in today.”

“Oh. That sucks.” Chase got the feeling there was something more to this story, but now wasn’t the time to push. “But again, why isn’t today the best day?”

“Well…Henrik has been…” Newson pursed her lips. “…not well. So for your own safety, you know?”

Normally Chase might’ve dropped it there, but there was something in Newson’s last statement that rubbed him the wrong way. “What do you mean by ‘not well?’”

“Oh, um…” Newson tucked the clipboard under her arm. “He’s been…not all there. A bit confused, I believe.”

“Okay, so?” Chase shrugged. “I’m fine with that.”

“But…” Newson hesitated. “Well, I’m not sure you’re aware of what happened before he came here—”

“Yeah, I’m aware of what happened,” Chase interrupted. “But Schneep’s my friend and I only get to see him once a week, I’m not about to leave now.” He might’ve been inclined to if he wasn’t getting a sort of _tone_ from Newson. He looked back at JJ, still standing by the wall. “Jays, do you want to leave?”

Jameson, probably picking up on the same _tone,_ shook his head, stubbornly folding his arms.

Chase turned back to Newson. “So, yeah. We’re already here, and we want to see him, and we’re not leaving.”

Newson sighed, defeated. “Very well. You’re aware that I have to supervise, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Alright. I’ll be back, then.” Newson turned on her heel and walked back through the door she came through, shutting it behind her.

Chase looked back at JJ. “Sorry about that.”

 _It’s fine, you weren’t in control of that,_ JJ signed. _You handled that very well._

“Oh. Thanks.” Chase sighed, folding his arms. “You still nervous?”

 _Well…yes,_ JJ admitted.

“And it’s still going to be fine,” Chase assured him. “I promise.”

Only a few minutes later, Dr. Newson reentered the room. “I’ll um…just be over here, I suppose,” she said, walking some ways away to stand next to a chair…and decidedly not sit down in it. Shortly after her, the guy who was always there—Chase finally remembered the word “orderly”—entered as well. He was holding Schneep’s hand, almost pulling him along into the room.

Chase knew something was wrong immediately. He had a half-formed thought that Newson was just making up the bit about Schneep being “not well” for whatever reason, but apparently not. Schneep…didn’t look good. To be fair, he hadn’t looked his best for a while. Chase wasn’t sure when it happened, but sometime in the nearly ten months he hadn’t seen him (in between his initial disappearance and his admittance to Silver Hills) Schneep had gotten paler and thinner, and his eyes almost always had dark circles underneath them. But in addition to that, today there was…a sort of shakiness about him. He wasn’t quite looking at the room around him, letting the orderly guide him.

Well, Chase wasn’t about to let that stop him. He’d just have to be careful today. He could do that, especially if it made things easier for Schneep. Chase smiled, walking up to Schneep but stopping some way away. “Hey. How’re you doing today?” He tried to keep his voice light.

Schneep looked at him, and didn’t say anything. Or…it didn’t really feel like he was looking at him. Chase recognized the sort of glazed look when someone wasn’t quite connected to reality—he’d seen it in the mirror enough. Behind Schneep, the orderly took a few steps away, clearly giving the two of them space.

“It’s fine, take your time.” Chase took a step closer, but he was still some ways away. “I’m doing alright, though. Not perfect, but things have been okay.” They were okay enough, Chase supposed. He’d had a really bad day on Wednesday, but he was trying to get past that. Not quite succeeding, but it was better, he guessed. Maybe. “You know?”

Schneep slowly nodded. He still didn’t look like he was entirely listening, but that was a response.

“Cool.” Chase cleared his throat. “Anyway, I wanted you to meet someone. Remember JJ? Jameson, I keep mentioning him.” He paused, but apparently that one wasn’t going to get a response. “Alright. Well, he wanted to meet you too. So he decided to come along today.” Chase turned around. “Jays?”

Jameson had shrank back against the wall when Schneep entered, but now took a deep breath, and stepped forward. He waved a “hello.”

Schneep looked over at Jameson. His eyes widened. And then he screamed.

“What—no, Hen, it’s okay!” Chase reached out, but Schneep backed away, not taking his eyes off Jameson. He ran into a coffee table and fell over it, but continued scrambling backwards. “No no no, it’s fine, I promise.” Chase dropped to his knees to be on the same level, trying to reach out again.

“N-no! No—nein, nein!” Schneep smacked Chase’s offered hand. “Get away! Back!”

“Henrik, it’s fine, he’s not going to hurt you,” Chase said in a soft voice.

Schneep shook his head. His back was now pressed against one of the chairs, and he was still trying to back up further, legs kicking. There were tears shining in his eyes as he breathed too quickly. “No no, no, p-please do not—I-I do not want—I have done everything, everything, A-An—” He clapped a hand over his mouth, bending over and wrapping his other arm around his middle. He kept shaking his head.

Chase heard a strange, strangled sound behind him, like someone shocked. He turned around to look at the doctor and orderly, but they weren’t in the same direction the sound had come from. And besides, the two of them were busy talking to each other. Chase looked in the sound’s direction, but the only one there was Jameson. Who…also had his hand covering his mouth, like he’d just said something he hadn’t meant to. But…Chase blinked. “Jameson?”

Jameson lowered his hand, and took a few steps backwards. _I think it would be better if I waited in the car,_ he signed, and before Chase could say anything, he turned and quickly left.

Odd. Chase wanted to call after him, but there were more pressing matters at the moment. Namely, Schneep was still panicking, hyperventilating and muttering something that was muffled by his hand still pressed to his mouth. Chase tried again to reach out. He set his hand on Schneep’s upper arm, relieved when Schneep didn’t try to shake him off. “Hen, it’s okay. You’re okay. Nobody’s going to hurt you, I promise.” He kept mumbling words to this effect as he slowly scooted closer to Schneep.

After what felt like forever, Schneep’s breathing slowed, and he loosened from his tense position. His eyes flicked up to meet Chase’s, and this time Chase was sure he saw some sort of registration in them. He slowly lowered his hand, and leaned forward against Chase. His fingers curled around the loose folds of Chase’s jacket.

“Yeah, see? It’s all good.” Chase wrapped his arms around Schneep, who let it happen. “I…I’m not sure what that was about, but it’s over now.” He fell silent for a moment, giving Schneep time to calm down. “Do you…do you want to sit on the sofa, or something?” Schneep made a short, high-pitched keening sort of sound. Chase felt him shake his head. “Alright, we’ll just stay on the floor, then.”

A moment more, and Schneep finally pulled away, though he kept hold of Chase’s hand. “It is over?” He asked, hushed as if worried someone will overhear. “He is gone?”

“Uh…yeah, he’s gone, bro, don’t worry.” Chase gave him a small smile.

Schneep visibly relaxed. He looked like he wanted to cry. “I am sorry,” he croaked.

“No, it’s fine, it’s not your fault you freaked out. It’s no problem,” Chase reassured him.

“No, is my fault.” Schneep shook his head. “It is because of me you are here. Jackie, I am so sorry.”

Chase froze, eyes widening.

Oh.

“You are not hurt?” Schneep asked, pulling on the edge of Chase’s jacket. “I can fix.”

Chase shook his head. “N…no, Schneep, I-I’m not—” The last word got caught in his throat.

“That is good,” Schneep said, unaware of Chase’s sudden cut off. “Very good.”

“Schneep, it…” Chase cleared his throat. “It’s Chase.”

“What about him?” Schneep gasped. “Did you see him here? Did he get—nein, please say he did not—!”

“No, no I haven’t seen him,” Chase hurried to say.

A sigh of relief. “Then what is it? Did you…” Schneep leaned closer. “Do you think _he_ knows?”

There was something about the way Schneep emphasized the _he_ that drew Chase’s attention. “I…don’t know if he knows,” he said slowly, playing along.

“I see,” Schneep said, nodding. “Well, if he does, it is not your fault, Jackie. You know, he is very clever.”

“Yeah…” Chase’s voice broke. “Yeah, I know.”

Schneep leaned further forward, until his head rested on Chase’s shoulder. “Can I stay here?” he asked quietly. “Until he comes for me again?”

“Of…of course.” Chase answered in an equally quiet tone.

Schneep sighed. “Danke.”

The two of them fell quiet again. Chase listened idly to the doctor and the orderly talking, saying something about medication. He…he had no idea what was happening anymore. Why had Schneep freaked out so much when he saw Jameson? Who was the _he?_ Someone that both Schneep and Jackie knew, probably, if he thought he was talking to Jackie about him.

Maybe it was simpler than he thought. But something felt off.

* * *

Chase was almost out the hospital’s front door when he was stopped. By the orderly from before. “Oh. Um, hi?” He said, not bothering to hide his surprise. He wasn’t expecting this guy to talk to him.

“Hi. Sorry, just wanted to catch you before you left,” the orderly said. “You’re Chase? Schneep’s friend?”

“Yeah.” Chase noted the way the orderly called him ‘Schneep’—something Henrik only let his friends do.

“My name’s Oliver, I, uh, I work with him,” the orderly said. “And I work with, uh, Dr. Laurens. The two of us sort of…do things with him.” He paused. “Okay that sounds a lot worse than I meant it to be—”

“No, I get it, you mean like therapy and stuff.” Chase nodded.

“Yeah, exactly.” Oliver looked relieved.

“Anyway, uh…what’s up?” Chase noticed Oliver was holding something in his arms. “You, uh…want to talk about something?”

“Yeah, so.” Oliver shifted on his feet. “You know how Dr. Laurens hasn’t come in today. Well…she didn’t come in yesterday, either.”

“Oh. Is she sick or something?”

“I don’t think so. Dr. Newson tried calling her house. The two of them kind of…had a fight on Wednesday, and Laurens was supposed to show up the next morning to talk with her, but she never did.”

“Maybe she did show up but left super quickly?” Chase suggested. “Because maybe, if they had a fight, and Dr. New said she was in charge, maybe Laurens got…fired?” He hesitated to say it.

Oliver was already shaking his head. “No, you don’t get it. Dr. Newson was _trying_ to call Rya—er, Laurens. And she got real nervous when Laurens didn’t pick up. If Laurens isn’t here, it’s not because of Newson. I’m worried something…happened.”

“That sounds bad,” Chase admitted.

“Yeah, I know. That’s enough on its own, but also, Dr. Newson is going to take over Schneep’s case until Laurens gets back. And those two, uh…” Oliver bit his lip. “They don’t get along. She, uh, really doesn’t like him. I don’t know why.”

“Well, shit,” Chase said. That would explain the tone from earlier. “Well, what do you want me to do about it? Do you want me to, like, sue her?”

“I don’t know, I mean, maybe it won’t be so bad.” Oliver didn’t sound too optimistic. “But anyway. I just thought that…I-I don’t know what I thought. But, um, on Wednesday, Laurens gave me these.” Oliver showed what he was holding to Chase: a manila folder with a keycard peeking out the top, and a thick turquoise notebook. “She said it was in case anything happened to her. It’s uh, Schneep’s case file, the card to his room, and her notes from all the sessions. I wasn’t sure what to do with them. But I thought, maybe, that you’re his friend, maybe you would…want to have them?”

Chase didn’t say anything, too stunned to for a moment. “Wow,” he finally landed on. “That…are you sure that’s a good idea? Won’t you guys need that?”

“Well, um.” Oliver shifted his weight. “Technically the case file is a copy. Because I copied the original Laurens gave to me. Which is still here. And I have my own card, and Dr. Newson has a master card, so we don’t need this, but…I-I don’t know. And I asked Newson if she wanted the notes, she didn’t. But uh…you can always give them back.”

After staring at the folder and notebook for a while more, Chase reached out and took them. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome, I guess.” Oliver stepped back. He hesitated. “Y’know…I don’t think Schneep’s bad. If that makes sense.”

“Good. Cause he’s not,” Chase stated.

Oliver nodded once more, then turned and left without saying anything else.

Chase looked down at the folder and the notebook. The former he could read, it would be nice to learn more about what happened. But the notebook…? Wouldn’t reading that be a violation of doctor-patient confidentiality? And also a little personal, besides? But he had it now. And if Newson didn’t want it, he wasn’t going to force her to take it. So instead, he tucked both items under his arm and walked out to his car.

* * *

The ride back was silent for a long time. Though that was mostly because it was hard to talk to JJ and drive at the same time: you needed your eyes and mind to focus on the road and not on interpreting sign. But this was an…uncomfortable kind of silence. The sort that came about when something pressed on the air between two people.

Eventually, Chase couldn’t take it anymore. Soon after they turned onto the street to his house, he pulled to the curb and parked, looking over at JJ. “Hey…are…you okay?”

Jameson was silent for a while. _Yes, I’m fine,_ he finally signed, the gesture somehow small.

“Um…” Chase cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you…could make…sound.” Nope nope nope, abort, stuff that sentence back in your mouth, oh my god—

JJ smiled a bit. _It’s not the sound I have trouble with, it’s the words. It’s…difficult to form them._

“Ah.” Chase relaxed a bit, but only a bit. His fingers drummed a pattern on the steering wheel. “Hey, uh…about what happened back there, I-I don’t think—I mean, that didn’t have anything to do with you, Schneep just…gets confused. Sometimes.”

Jameson stared forward, out the windshield. _Has something like that happened before?_

“Yeah, uh…kinda, I guess.” Chase looked down. “I mean, I wasn’t there, but I heard about it. Jack went over to Schneep’s apartment. Apparently he had a big surgery that day, and he wanted to see how it went. And uh, Jack had an extra key, so when Schneep didn’t answer he just walked in. Turns out, the doc was just sitting on the couch, kinda out of it. The moment he saw Jack, though, he started screaming. Told him to get out of his apartment or he’d call the police. Didn’t…didn’t recognize him at all.” Chase swallowed down a lump in his throat. “Jack and I went back the next day, and uh, long story short, that’s how we figured out Schneep had some issues that he needed to see people about.” He took a deep breath, and looked back up. “So, it probably wasn’t because of you.”

Jameson was still staring out the windshield. _Chase,_ he signed slowly. _Is someone outside your house?_

Chase looked up. They’d stopped on the street a few houses away from his, and…and it _did_ look like someone was outside. Chase didn’t recognize them from this distance, but they were knocking on the door. “The hell?” Chase muttered. “What do they want?” He climbed out of the car, Jameson following his lead, and started walking down the sidewalk—quickly. Once he was in earshot, he shouted “Hey! You!”

The person at the door started, and turned. And that’s when Chase saw his face. He stopped, gaping. Jameson caught up to him, then had the exact same reaction.

The man at the door waved, a little awkwardly. “Hi. I guess you weren’t at home?”

Chase didn’t answer the question. He just stared. “Marvin?!”

“Um, yeah?” Marvin shifted awkwardly on his feet and folded his arms. “Why do you say it like that?”

“Where have you _been?!”_ Chase asked. “It’s been months!” 

Marvin winced. “Yeah, I know. I probably should’ve said something at some point, but things got all…like….you know, uh…ugh.” Marvin sighed. “Words.”

JJ stepped forward. _Should we go inside to talk?_ he suggested.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Chase agreed. He closed the rest of the distance to the front door, unlocking it and pushing it open.

The three of them took seats in the living room, with Marvin on the sofa and Chase and Jameson in an armchair on either side. “So… _are_ you gonna tell us where you’ve been? Or…” Chase trailed off. Maybe that was too personal to ask right off the bat.

“No yeah, of course,” Marvin waved away the awkward ending of the question. “I, um…well, I went to live with my grandma, for a while.”

“Oh, really?” That hadn’t been the answer Chase was expecting. “Just to visit, or, um…?”

“I mean, yeah, kind of.” Marvin ran his hand through his hair. In the time since Chase had seen him, it had gotten longer, now long enough to be held back in a ponytail. “It’s been a while. But also there was some, um…other…reasons.”

“Ah. Okay.” Judging by the uncomfortable pauses, Marvin clearly didn’t want to talk about it. So Chase should obviously stop talking about it too. God, why had he pushed so much? He felt a lump of guilt weigh down his stomach. “Well, it’s good to see you agai—Jays, you okay?”

JJ was staring at Marvin with a wide-eyed incredulous look. _Marvin, doesn’t your grandmother live in Ireland?_

“Um, yeah? Where the fuck else would an old Irish woman live, Florida?” Marvin shook his head. “Actually older people travel too, never mind.”

_And you took your pets with you._

“Yeah, I wasn’t about to leave them.”

JJ paused, processing this. _Marvin, don’t take this the wrong way,_ he signed, _but how the hell did you take a three-foot-long snake across the Irish Sea?!_

Chase couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Bro, yeah, now that you mention it—the cats I get, you can get carriers for that, but how’d you take the snake?”

“Hey, there are carriers for snakes, too!” Marvin said defensively.

 _You left the enclosure here!_ JJ pointed out.

“Yeah, there was an old one back at my grandma’s place,” Marvin said, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “I first got Salazar back when I was living with her, and she never took it down. Kept all the accessories and everything.”

Chase was still laughing, wheezing at this point as he leaned over the chair’s arm. “Bro, that was the most matter-of-fact way you could’ve—oh my god. Oh fuck, dude.”

Marvin cracked a small smile too. “Okay, guess that could be kind of funny.”

“Ah…” Chase finally calmed down. “Well, it’s good to see you again.”

The smile grew a bit. “Thanks. It’s…well, I needed to get away, but it’s nice to be back. Sorry about…not telling either of you. I probably should’ve, but it just…” Marvin paused, trying to find the right words. “It seemed so…big.”

Jameson nodded. _Well, you came back eventually. Sounds like it was good?_

“Yeah, it was good. But I did miss you guys. Anything happen in the last, um…five months?”

“Oh boy, you have no idea, bro, so much—wait, five months?” Chase sat up straight. “Oh shit it’s August. Oh _shit,_ your birthday was last week!”

“Oh, yeah it was.” Marvin sounded surprised. Not like he forgot his own birthday, but like he wasn’t expecting anyone else to bring it up.

“I didn’t get you anything!” Chase realized. “I didn’t know if you were going to be here!”

“It’s fine—”

“No, I’m gonna get you something. Give me like a week, I’ll do it.” Chase looked over at JJ. “Jays? Agreed?”

JJ smiled smugly. _I actually did get you something, Marvin._

“What?! Kiss-up!”

“You got me something?” Marvin repeated. “Even though I wasn’t here?”

 _Well, yes, I figured I’d see you again,_ Jameson said. _So I could give you your present when I saw you. It’s back at my apartment, I can stop by your house later to drop it off? Maybe help you unpack, if you’re still having trouble with that?_

“Yeah, if you could do that tomorrow, that would be great.” Marvin flashed a smile. “Heh. Hey JJ, how does it feel to be two years younger than everyone?”

JJ huffed. _You are not two years older than me._

“Hmm, really? I thought there was a two-year difference between 28 and 26.”

 _I thought there was a one year difference between August 1990 and October 1991,_ JJ pointed out.

“Yeah, well. Same thing.” Marvin chuckled. “Anyway, you’re still the only one of the group that hasn’t had their birthday this year. Or, well…” Marvin settled a bit, looking sadder. “If all of us were here, you’d actually have someone else who’s not done that yet. Y’know, in September.”

Suddenly, Chase gasped. “Oh, you don’t know!”

Marvin looked over at him, confused. “What?”

“I’m so sorry, I got sidetracked, I wanted to fill you in on all the stuff that happened—” Chase cut himself off. Don’t waste time. “Anyway, Schneep’s back! Kind of.”

“Wait, he’s _what?!”_ Marvin gaped. “We found him? Where? What happened? What do you mean ‘kind of’?”

“It’s a…it’s a long story, bro,” Chase sighed. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Well, tell me the same way you found out,” Marvin suggested.

“Hm. Okay, that can work.” Chase settled back in his chair. Beside him, JJ got comfortable too. “So, basically this day in June—I think, it could’ve been early July—I get a knock at my door, and I open it to see this lady I’ve never seen before. She says her name is Dr. Rya Laurens, and that she knows Schneep.”

“Friend of his?” Marvin asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, no, not exactly. Well…” Chase considered this. “I guess kind of. But anyway, I thought she worked with him, but she’s actually the wrong kind of doctor. She, uh, works at Silver Hills. You know, the mental hospital a bit out of town?”

Marvin nodded. Then he visibly started as he realized something. “Wait—so Schneep is _there_ now?! Like, living there?”

“Yep. We were actually just up there, visiting. That’s why I wasn’t at—oh my god, I just remembered I left something in the car.” Chase shot to his feet. “JJ, fill him in on the rest? I’ll be real quick.”

JJ nodded, watching as Chase left the house again.

It was a quick walk back to where they’d stopped the car, and once he got there Chase figured he might as well drive it the rest of the way to his house. He got inside, and was about to start it when he happened to glance at the rear view mirror.

There was a person reflected there. A man Chase froze. Was he…looking at his car? He kind of looked like he was. But he was some ways down the street, he couldn’t quite see his face. He blinked, and when he looked again, the man was walking away.

It was probably nothing, wasn’t it?

A few minutes later, with the car parked safely in the driveway, Chase walked back into the house to see JJ and Marvin talking in sign, going a bit too quickly for him to pick up more than a few words. He sat back down in the chair from before, waiting for them to finish, and set the case file folder and Laurens’ notebook down on the coffee table.

Once he was finished talking with JJ, Marvin looked down at the new items on the table. “What’s that?”

“Oh, uh, I ran into this orderly named Oliver back at Silver Hills,” Chase explained. “He said he worked on Schneep’s case, and he…gave me these.”

Marvin chuckled. “Ha. Oliver the orderly. Alliteration.”

 _You’re one to talk, Marvin Maher,_ JJ smiled.

“There should be a ‘magnificent’ in there somewhere,” Marvin said, grinning. “Anyway, so what is it, then?”

“Oh, uh, this is the case file,” Chase said, picking up the manila folder. “Has all the police information about…what happened during those nine months. It also apparently has a keycard to Schneep’s room.”

“Nice,” Marvin said. “Can I have it?”

“What, the file or just the card?”

“The file. I want to know what I missed just because I avoid news about crime.”

 _Both of you need to know more about what goes on in the news,_ JJ pointed out.

“Yeah,” Chase sighed. “Anyway, sure, Marvin. Just bring it back when you’re done, I might want to read it too.” He slid the file across the table, where Marvin slapped it to stop it from falling off the surface. “And also, there’s this notebook. It’s, um…it’s Dr. Laurens’ notes from all her sessions with Schneep.”

Marvin’s brows drew together, confused. “Won’t she need that?”

“Well…that’s the thing.” Chase folded his arms, shrinking back into his chair. “She…she apparently hadn’t shown up to work the last two days. And hasn’t been able to be contacted. She…she might be missing.” He mumbled the last part.

“Oh,” Marvin said quietly. “That’s…oh.”

“Yeah.” Chase sighed again. “They put this new doctor on Schneep’s case, Dr. Newson, but apparently they don’t get along, so that’s going to…be great.”

“Well, maybe the normal doctor will come back,” Marvin suggested. “Maybe she just decided to leave. Because, y’know…sometimes people have to leave, but they’ll come back.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Maybe.” Chase wasn’t too sure about that. He looked at the other two. “At least Schneep has us, right? At least—Jameson, are you sure you’re okay?”

Jameson was sitting rather stiff in his seat—had been for a while, since Chase said Laurens might be missing. His hands were clenched fists in his lap, and his eyes were locked downward. His face had suddenly gone very white, eyes wide. Almost as if he was afraid. When Chase said his name, he jumped, looking around, his hand going to his pocket. But he relaxed. _I might be feeling a bit under the weather,_ he signed.

“Um…yeah, okay,” Chase said slowly. Obviously, that wasn’t true. And judging by the confused look Marvin was pointing at Jameson, Marvin wasn’t buying it either. But maybe this wasn’t a good time to pry. “You want me to drive you home?”

Jameson nodded. _Please._

“Alright.” Chase stood up again. “Marvin, you want a ride?”

“Nah, I can take the bus back,” Marvin said, standing up at the same time.

“If you’re sure.” Chase shrugged. “C’mon, let’s go Jays.”

And so, for the third time that day, Chase found he was back in his car with JJ in the passenger seat. He glanced over at him. “You sure you don’t…need anything?”

Jameson shook his head. _Just some space, please._

“Okay, then.” Chase started the car.

As he turned to back out, he could’ve sworn he saw the figure of a man out of the corner of his eye. But it was soon gone. Just his imagination. Still, he felt a lingering chill.


	8. Encounters and Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin and JJ have a short talk, but it happens at the same time Marvin seems to be talking with Chase...something's going on, and it may have something to do with the new, but familiar, face we meet.

“Luna, no, stop bothering your brother.” Marvin, carefully balancing a bowl in one hand, reached forward and tried scooting the small black cat away from the terrarium with the other. Said cat looked up at him with big yellow eyes. “Don’t give me that look. He’s probably trying to sleep. You’re annoying him. Go.”

After a few more careful nudges, the cat, Luna stood up and jumped off the table. She stalked to the open doorway, where she proceeded to flop down on her side and stare at him, not moving at all.

Marvin scowled at her. “I will step over you. You are tiny.” He turned back to the room at whole. It looked kind of bare, despite being back home for almost a week. He had yet to take all his knickknacks and posters out of the boxes and put them back up around the room. But the furniture—sofa, armchair, coffee table, table for the terrarium, and television—was all where he’d left them. The room hadn’t changed. The walls and furniture were still shades of blue, his gold stars still painted on the ceiling. And he could still eat his pasta while sitting on the sofa like he wanted to.

He set his bowl down on the coffee table and proceeded to flop down on the sofa before remembering he left his drink back in the kitchen. He sighed, and stood back up. And then the doorbell rang. Well. At least he was already standing up. He walked over to the front door, glanced through the peephole, and then opened it. “Hi JJ.”

 _Hello._ JJ was standing on the doorstep, bouncing awkwardly. _I hope I’m not bothering you._

“No, it’s fine, I was just about to have lunch.” Marvin shrugged. “You want to come inside?”

_Please._

Marvin stepped aside to let JJ walk in. Before he entered, JJ bent over and picked up a gift bag he must have set down earlier. Once he was inside, JJ held the bag out for Marvin to take. _Happy late birthday._

“Oh!” Marvin took the gift bag, looping his arm through the handles. “I thought you forgot.”

 _No, I’ve just been busy,_ JJ signed, looking sheepish. _Sorry, I know I said I was going to help you unpack and such a few days ago._

“It’s fine. I mean, I don’t think I can ever say anything about people leaving now that I’ve gone and…you know.” Marvin laughed. It came out a little forced.

JJ glanced around the living room, noting the boxes still sitting around with stuff inside. _Do you still need help?_

“Yeah. How’d you tell?” Marvin kicked the nearest box. “How’s it feel to be the only one in the group with executive function that actually works?”

JJ chuckled. _By the way, I think your cat is trying to steal your noodles._

“Wha…?” Marvin spun around. “Luna Void! Get away from there!” He quickly crossed the room, picking up the black cat just before her paw dipped into the bowl. “That’s human food, not cat food. And I just filled your bowl, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

Luna meowed.

Marvin shook his head, glancing around the room. He noticed a big ball of white and brown fluff sitting on the armchair. “Here, play with Ragamuffin.” He set Luna on top of the fluff ball, which meowed and lifted its head, revealing itself to be a ragdoll cat, mostly off-white with a brown tail, face, and ears. “Shush, you love her, Muffin.” Ragamuffin meowed again as Luna flopped across him. Marvin looked back at JJ. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

 _I love them,_ JJ signed happily, eyes locked on the two cats.

Marvin laughed. “You can come by to see them any time. Your building still have the rules about pets?”

 _Yes, sadly._ JJ sighed. _Not even Mr. Purple Snake is allowed._

“Hey, Salazar isn’t purple, he’s lavender,” Marvin corrected. “Purple makes it sound like he’s the same shade as that thing from McDonald’s, while lavender is the actual name of the morph.”

_And he has stripes._

“Exactly, he’s a striped lavender snake,” Marvin said, nodding.

 _Fits you perfectly,_ JJ commented. _Anyway, are you going to open your present now or later?_

“I can do it now,” Marvin said, grabbing the gift bag off his arm. He sat down on the sofa, searching through the tissue paper. JJ took a seat next to him. After pulling out all the paper, Marvin reached into the bag and pulled out a golden heart-shaped locket. His eyes widened. “No way.” He turned the locket over, noticing a small key, which he wound a few times. The chimes of a music box started playing. Marvin looked up at JJ. “Oh my god. Oh my god. I thought this was a collector’s item, how did you find one?”

 _Someone was selling it online,_ JJ explained. _I know you really like the game, so I thought you’d like it._ He looked hopeful. _Well…do you?_

“Fuck, of course I do.” Marvin lifted the locket to his ear, listening to the familiar melody. “Oh my god. Oh my _god,_ JJ. Thank you so much.” Words weren’t enough to describe what he was feeling, so Marvin grabbed JJ’s hand and squeezed it tight, swinging it a little. He let go sooner than he would’ve liked to, so JJ could respond if he wanted.

 _I’m glad,_ JJ signed, beaming. _I wanted to get you something that meant a lot, since it’s been a while since I’ve seen you._

“Yeah…yeah, it has, hasn’t it?” Marvin rewound the music box as it slowed down. He suddenly felt his eyes well with tears. He turned away from JJ, rubbing his eyes.

JJ picked up on it, of course. _Are you okay?_ he asked, concern lining his face.

“Fine.” Marvin’s voice cracked on the single syllable. “I-It just…fine. I’m just…a lot of things have happened.”

Jameson scooted closer. _Do you want to talk about it?_

“No,” Marvin said, perhaps a little too fast. “I’m good.” He didn’t want to explain this to any of them. He wasn’t sure what they’d think of him if they knew. It might just be better if he kept silent about it. Part of him whispered that they’d want to know why he left eventually, but he…he didn’t think he was brave enough to listen to that part.

JJ looked at him oddly. _You sure?_

Well…there was a smaller thing that he thought was safe to talk about. “Well…” he said slowly. “You know, Schneep and I really liked this game.” He squeezed the locket under his hand. “It was kind of our thing. He joked that it was his birthday gift, since it, y’know, came out the same day. The two of us were the only ones who liked it for a long time, and we kept fucking badgering Jack to play it on the channel.” Marvin smiled. “No joke, we one time spent two hours straight just talking about it.” The smile faded. “I just…I miss him, I guess.”

Jameson didn’t say anything for some time. Then: _I see,_ he signed. _But he’s back now, isn’t he? You can go visit._

“Yeah, I know that, like intellectually,” Marvin explained. “But I-I don’t know, I guess I’m nervous. That something will go wrong. Y’know, Chase told me what happened at the last visit.”

JJ bit his lip. _Well. That might’ve been because of me. I think that he just freaked out because…he thought I was someone else._

Was that what happened? Chase had said that JJ somehow caused Schneep to freak out, but he hadn’t mentioned it was because Schneep thought he was someone else. “Still,” Marvin said, and then fell silent.

 _You can go with Chase, if you want, for support,_ JJ suggested. 

“Maybe,” Marvin said slowly. “Maybe I should just go today, just jump in impulsively.” He…he did really want to see him. “Maybe Chase can come too, he can drive me.”

 _I think Chase has something to do today,_ JJ said.

“Really? What?”

 _I don’t know._ JJ shrugged. 

“Maybe he’s filming or something,” Marvin wondered out loud. “Would you want to come, if I went to see Schneep today?”

Jameson immediately paled. _I don’t think that’s a good idea, given how he reacted._

“He could’ve forgotten,” Marvin suggested.

_In a few days?_

“I don’t know, it’s possible. He used to complain a lot about how he didn’t have a strong sense of…time.”

 _Well, I’m still not sure it’s a good idea,_ JJ signed slowly. _Besides, I have work this evening._

“Oh yeah,” Marvin recalled. “You still working for, uhhh what’s-his-face? Mr. Paddington, or something?”

JJ smiled. _Mr. Patterson,_ he signed, spelling it out. _And yes. Are you still working at the boutique?_

Marvin’s face fell. “No.” He paused, then continued in sign. _I got fired. About a month before I left._

Jameson’s mouth formed a small O shape. _I’m sorry._

 _It’s fine, I hated retail anyway,_ Marvin signed dismissively.

For a moment more, they just sat there. _I think your cats are fighting,_ JJ signed after a while.

Marvin looked over at the armchair and watched as Ragamuffin shoved Luna off the seat. “They’re fine, Muffin’s just grumpy.”

 _Ah._ Jameson hesitated, then signed his next string of words super-fast, as if shoving out his idea before he started to regret it. _You know, if you ever want to talk to someone, but not one of us, like, someone more serious about things that are…difficult, then I can give you my therapist’s number._

Marvin looked vaguely surprised. “Wait, you go to an actual talking therapist? Like for issues and stuff? I thought when you mentioned therapy it was, like, speech therapy.”

 _I tried speech therapy, it’s never worked,_ JJ said dryly. _And at this point I don’t think it will. But I’m fine, not willing to try any sort of operation to fix the damage._

“Hey, I didn’t say anything. Wasn’t even thinking it,” Marvin assured him.

 _Some people do,_ JJ signed, a bit bitterly. _But yes, an “actual” therapist. I suggested it to Chase, too._

“Oh, that’s good. He could use that.” Marvin fell silent. “I-I don’t know. I’ll think about it.” He wasn’t sure he would go through with it. He wasn’t sure how to explain to _anyone_ about…all of this. Especially a therapist. He wasn’t sure he could trust them to not call the police.

JJ smiled. _That’s enough. Now, are you ready to actually have me help you unpack?_

“Oh shit I completely forgot about that,” Marvin said, sitting up straight.

 _Maybe I could come back after you’re done with lunch,_ JJ suggested.

“No, you’re here, let’s do it now.” Marvin hadn’t forgotten about the lunch, at least. Though he did realize his pasta was getting cold. He pulled the bowl towards him. “We can eat together first. I made too much spaghetti, there’s still some in the kitchen.”

_Oh. Thank you._

“No problem. Let’s both go there, I don’t trust the cats to leave us alone anymore.” Marvin shot a look at the two cats, Ragamuffin sitting, satisfied, in the armchair while Luna zoomed around the floor.

 _Good idea._ JJ stood up. He paused. _I’m not sure if I’ve said this yet, but…it truly is good to see you again._

Marvin smiled; he hoped it wasn’t strained. He looped the locket’s chain around his neck, the gold heart settling against his blue shirt. _Thanks,_ he signed. _Good to be back._

* * *

Chase had something to do. Something he’d been neglecting for…god, it must’ve been three months now. The thought made guilt curdle in his stomach. It’s been far too long. A lot had happened, but that wasn’t an excuse.

It was another hospital. Not like the one Schneep was in, more of what you would usually expect when you heard the word “hospital.” Still, the check-in procedure was basically the same. Though this one didn’t have a visitors’ room. You were allowed to see the patients in their rooms here.

Even though it had been a while, Chase still remembered what room number it was—309—and what section it was in—ICU. He pushed open the door, and saw nothing had changed in the months since he’d been there. He walked inside, taking a seat in the one chair in the room, next to the bed. He took a deep breath. “Hi, Jack.”

As usual, there was no response except for the beeping from the heart monitor. Jack looked pretty much exactly the same. Eyes closed, oxygen mask strapped to his face. Chase couldn’t remember what was actually wrong with him, just that the doctors said Jack would either come out of it in time, or not at all.

“I know it’s been a while. Things have been…kind of tough lately,” Chase said slowly. “Um, they found Schneep. I-I don’t know how you’d feel about that, given…you know…” He waved vaguely at the bed. “Him and this whole situation. I-I still don’t think he meant to. I think he might’ve just been a bit…confused. You know how he gets. Maybe he was off his meds that day. Anyway, he’s in Silver Hills now. You know that place. I think it’s good that he’s there, it could really help. Apparently they also think he killed some people? Which I was surprised to hear, I never would’ve thought…” Chase trailed off. “I-I don’t think it’s his fault, really.”

He paused there for a moment, eyes tracing the line on the heart monitor. Steady. That’s good.

“Also, Marvin’s back. I don’t know where he went, he said he went to live with his grandma for a while. Probably true, but I just know there’s something else. Anyway, I’m not gonna ask him too much if he doesn’t want to talk about it. I don’t want him to…you know, shut down or anything.”

Another pause. Breathing was steady, too. It always was.

“And Stacy called me, too. I thought she was mad at me, or something, but, uh, turns out she’s not. Which is great. She just was having some work troubles and was kinda stressed, and I guess she was just too busy. But she’s doing okay, now. She quit working at the school, now she’s somewhere else, uh, I don’t remember the name but it apparently pays better. She does something with graphic design, which you know, she’s always wanted to. And Sophie and Nick are great, too. They’ve started this thing called reception this year, which I guess is like preschool for England. I dunno, I’m some dumb American. They sound like they’re doing okay. Everything’s…everything’s doing okay…”

Chase blinked back tears. Why was he crying? He wasn’t sad. He wasn’t…anything, really. He felt kind of…gray. But there was one thing he could feel that wasn’t just…gray. “I miss you,” he choked out. “I…I miss you a lot, Jack. I’m sure a lot of people miss you. I’m still trying to keep your community alive, but…well, I’m not you. It’s not the same thing, watching someone else run it.” He rubbed his eyes. “God, this is stupid. I’m stupid. I was just telling you how everything’s okay. And it should be. _It should be._ Everything’s getting better, just a little bit. Maybe that’s why the things that aren’t…they just seem worse. I miss you. I miss Jackie. I’m…I’m tired, Jack. I’m always tired, I-I can’t _do_ this.” He didn’t know what ‘this’ was.

Someone knocked on the door to the room.

Chase sat up straight, furiously swiping away tear tracks. He stood up and walked over to the door. He opened it to see Marvin standing there.

“Oh. Hi, you _are_ here,” he said. “I thought, ‘cause the door was closed…are you busy?”

“No, no, come in, it’s fine,” Chase hurried to say. He stepped aside. “Um, is that a new shirt? I didn’t think you liked to wear green.”

Marvin looked down at his T-shirt. “Yeah, it’s new. Not one of my favorites, but whatever.” He walked inside, stopping by the side of the bed. He looked down at Jack with an unreadable expression. “He looks so…small.”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Chase said. Marvin hadn’t been one to visit often before he left. But he supposed his time away changed a lot of things.

Marvin nodded. “Yeah.” He looked up at Chase. “Were you…doing something, or…?”

“No, I-I was just—it’s fine,” Chase stuttered.

“Cause I…I kind of wanted to talk to him.”

“Yeah, of course, I-I’ll wait outside.” Chase hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him. He took a deep breath.

He really needed to get back into practice with these visits. Maybe then he wouldn’t start crying every time. But…well, maybe a different set of visits had taken up space in his mind.

Waiting outside the hospital room, Chase turned his thoughts to Schneep. He wondered how he was doing.

* * *

The answer to Chase’s wondering was “not so good,” as proven by the interaction that took place across town, a little over two hours after Chase ended his visit.

Oliver hadn’t been prepared for anything like this in all his years working this job. He hadn’t been prepared for this entire case. The past few months had been a roller coaster that threw all his expectations out the window. He might’ve been inclined to reexamine those expectations, if he wasn’t too busy at the moment trying to keep peace in…well, in what was starting to look more like an argument than a therapy session.

Which was how most of these sessions were, now that Dr. Newson had taken over for Dr. Laurens. Oliver wasn’t sure what Newson had against Schneep, but there must’ve been _something,_ because this was definitely not normal. In just a few days, Oliver had gone from standing in the corner of the room during these sessions, to standing right by Newson and Schneep in the center, looking back and forth between them so that he didn’t miss anything…potentially dangerous to either of them.

“You are asking too many questions!” Schneep growled. “Why should any of this matter to you?!”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell me how to do my job,” Newson retorted. “You’re not that kind of doctor. In fact, you might not even be _that_ at all.”

Schneep bristled. “Excuse me? You insult me enough, do you have to bring something completely untrue into this?!”

“All I’m saying is that delusions are a common symptom of your condition,” Newson said with a sickly sweet smile. “Maybe you just _thought_ you were—”

“Fick dich und deine Vorfahren! You do not come into here and dismiss years of my work and study like this!”

“I can come in here whenever I want! I’m in charge!”

Schneep burst into laughter. “And you are doing such a wonderful job of it! Do you have nothing better to do than yell at me for an hour?!” His head tilted to the side. His hand shot to his neck, fingers starting to claw at skin. Oliver reacted immediately, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand back. Schneep didn’t even notice. “Because that is really all you are doing!”

“Alright, fine.” Newson took a step back, straightening her jacket. “Let’s do something else, then. We can work on uncovering the inner motivation for you killing thirteen people.”

“I did not k—!”

“Yeah, I know, you think something made you do it,” Newson dismissed. “Well, the fingerprints on the murder weapons would tell a different story. Do you think you needed some sort of control? After all, things hadn’t been going so well in your personal life, with your job and your wife.”

“Shut up about Mina,” Schneep growled. “We were doing fine.”

“Hmm, yet I haven’t seen _her_ in the visitors’ room yet. Or even heard from her.” Newson flashed a smile.

Oliver thought that was a bit too far. “Um, Dr. Newson, do you really think—”

“That is none of your business!” Schneep suddenly screamed.

“Of course it’s my business! How am I supposed to do my job without getting into your life?”

“That is not what you are doing! You are needling me for no reason! Why?! Is this fun for you?! I am tired of being fucked with by people and their sick games!” Schneep’s other hand darted forward, reaching for Newson. Oliver grabbed that one, too.

“Well, that’s the pot calling the kettle—” Newson suddenly stopped, being interrupted by a beeping noise. She looked down, and grabbed the pager off her belt. She quickly read the message, and sighed. “We’re going to have to cut this short today.”

“Good,” Schneep snarled. “I was about to tear your tongue out.”

“Now, you don’t want to be doing things like that, or you could spend the night in the quiet room again,” Newson said, folding her arms.

Schneep suddenly paled. He pulled his hands out of Oliver’s grasp and backed up, into the bed. He grabbed the pillow and hugged it to his chest, burying his face in it.

Oliver wasn’t sure why Schneep had such a strong reaction to the quiet room. Well, there was the stigma about having a room with padded walls, that was pretty much empty except for a bed. Oliver wasn’t about to pretend that popular culture hadn’t put its mark on that. But for some reason, even mentioning it made Schneep shut down entirely.

“Oliver, follow me,” Newson said. She turned on her heel, leaving the room. Oliver stood there for a moment more, then hurried to catch up.

“What is it, Dr. Newson?” he asked as they walked down the halls.

“What is what? The incident I’ve been paged about, or the reason why I asked you to come with me?”

“Um. Both, I guess.”

Dr. Newson sighed. “Lily just paged to tell me there’s some sort of commotion at the front desk. She’s new there, I guess she’s never had to deal with this before, so she appealed to the highest authority. Anyway, I wanted you to walk with me so we could talk about Henrik’s medication.”

“…alright,” Oliver said, confused. “Well, Dr. Laurens gave him a new one two weeks ago, since the other one apparently wasn’t effective.”

“I know that,” Newson nodded. “But it’s still not up to a full dosage.”

“Well…no,” Oliver admitted. “Laurens wanted to get him off the old one first, then get him used to this new one.”

“Well, I think he should be used to it by now,” Newson said dismissively. “We can up it to full. And we should give him a stronger tranquilizing agent, as well, I don’t think this one’s working too well.”

“…I see,” Oliver said slowly. He had to admit, he wasn’t an expert on this sort of stuff. It was why he was an orderly and not a doctor—well, that and the obvious lack of an actual doctorate. But he knew a bit about the medications, and… “Dr. Newson, aren’t there side effects for the current medication? Isn’t that why he has to get used to it in the first place? Are you—I don’t mean this the wrong way, but, are you sure he’s ready?”

“Of course I am.” Newson nodded once, firmly. Her eyes were burning. “I’m letting you know so you won’t think anything’s out of the ordinary when you pick it up tomorrow.”

“…alright.” Oliver didn’t want to say anything bad; he didn’t want to lose his job, and to be honest, Dr. Newson was a little intimidating. But he wasn’t sure her motives were entirely pure. Still, he kept silent. With Laurens gone, Schneep needed an ally.

“Here we are, the front desk,” Newson said, pushing open the door. Oliver hung back, watching the scene. Lily Travels, a relatively new doctor, was manning the desk, trying to calm down a clearly upset man, who…looked familiar. If it hadn’t been for the long wavy hair held back in a ponytail, Oliver could’ve sworn that he was—

“Hello, is there a problem here?” Newson asked pleasantly.

“I want to see someone,” the man said. “I looked up your hours on your website! But she keeps saying that he’s not available!” The man’s voice was loud and distressed. He kept touching the cup full of pens on top of the desk, playing with it.

“Sir, please put that down,” Dr. Travels said weakly, in the tone of someone who’s been asking the same thing for a while.

The man sharply withdrew his hand. And then immediately took five pens out of the cup and started chewing on the end of one of them. Dr. Travels sighed.

Newson looked the man up and down. Recognition flared in her eyes. “Sir, what’s your name?”

“Marvin. Marvin Maher, I wrote it on the clipboard,” the man said, still chewing on the pen.

“Mr. Maher, put down that pen, or you’ll have to pay for it.” Marvin immediately dropped the pen. “Who are you here to see?”

“His name’s Henrik von Schneeplestein.”

Newson nodded, her suspicions confirmed. “Well, Dr. Travels is right, he’s not available.”

“What?!” Marvin gasped. “Then—then why the _fuck_ does your website say I can visit him now?!”

“Visiting hours for residents on the first floor are only on Fridays,” Newson said calmly.

Marvin paused, pulling at the collar of his blue shirt. “Well, why couldn’t you put that on the website?”

“It is on the website, Mr. Maher.”

“I didn’t see it,” Marvin grumbled. “Maybe your website layout fucking sucks. And how do you know where Schneep’s room is?”

“Well, I _am_ his doctor,” Newson said pointedly. “And even if I wasn’t, we have a database where that information could easily be found.”

“You’re his…?” Marvin paused. “Sorry, what’s your name, again?”

“My name is Dr. Newson.”

“Oh.” Marvin’s face scrunched in confusion. “But I thought Dr. Laurens—no, wait. I remember now, Chase said she…oh, that sucks.” He paused. “Newson? Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Is that, like, a common name…?”

“I suppose not,” Newson mused. “But if that’ll be all you wanted…” She gestured towards the front door.

Marvin stared at her. “Um…‘if that’ll be all I wanted’ what?”

A flicker of annoyance temporarily broke Newson’s professional facade. “If that’ll be all, could you please exit now? Dr. Travels has more to do.”

“Oh! Yeah, sure.” Marvin turned around, took a few steps towards the entrance, then stopped and turned back. “So, are you, like, famous or something?”

The annoyance was replaced by surprise. “I don’t think so.”

“Not even locally?”

“Well, I suppose that depends. Why?”

“I think I read the name Newson somewhere,” Marvin muttered. “Something, like…it had something to do with Christmas, I think.”

For a brief, _very_ brief moment, Newson’s face cracked in two, her expression falling to the ground, replaced by something of loss. She quickly recovered. “I wouldn’t know about that. Now if you’ll _please._ ” She gestured towards the entrance again.

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, I guess.” And with that, Marvin left.

Newson straightened her jacket again, and without another word, spun around and walked past Oliver, deeper into the building.

Something was up here, and Oliver had no idea what. He was sure Laurens would’ve known something, but she wasn’t here.

With a sigh, Oliver also backed deeper into the building. He had more to do today.

* * *

Her head was pounding. It felt like her brain had solidified into rock, and was being thrown against her temples.

“Hello?”

She felt like a pile of noodles. Limp and weak. All her bones were gone.

“Hey lady. A-are you alive?”

Where was she? The thought passed through her head like it was swimming through fog. The last thing she could remember…the last thing she could remember…

“I mean, you’re breathing. But I…I don’t know how awake you are. Been there for a while.”

She was at her car and…and there was that man. She thought he was Chase, but…maybe he just _looked_ like him…

Something hit the back of her head.

Laurens opened her eyes, immediately squeezing them shut again. God, her head was pounding. Not because of the thing that hit her, that felt small and light. What was it? She cracked open her eyes again, just enough to see that she was staring at a vaguely gray wall…plaster, but unpainted. She was lying on her side, the floor cold beneath her. She groaned.

“Oh good, you’re awake. Are you okay?”

That voice…it sounded kind of familiar. But from where? Laurens didn’t answer, just groaned again.

“I’m gonna take that as a no. Who are you? How did you get here?”

Laurens squeezed her eyes shut, tears starting to rise as a blinding pain shot through her temple. She moved her arm, but found something yanked her wrist back. So she raised her other one, waving it in the direction the voice was coming from.

“Oh.” The voice was whisper-shouting now. “Should I shut up?”

She gave the voice a thumbs-up.

“Alright. Sorry.”

Laurens wasn’t sure how long it took for the hammer to stop pounding an anvil into her head. It felt like a long time. If she was forced to guess, it was fifteen minutes until it was manageable and she could open her eyes. And it felt like another half an hour before she was able to roll over and face the room at large.

She immediately recognized it as a basement—an unfinished one, with rafters overhead, dangling lightbulbs, and pillars holding up the ceiling. There were random squares of carpet on the concrete floor, but none near where she was lying. There was a door in one wall, and a small, rectangular window high on the opposite wall, with no light coming through it. A short folding table was pressed against another wall, and nearby a boxy television sat on top of a wooden pallet crate. Overall, the room was about the size of an average living room.

“Are you okay now?”

Her eyes rolled towards the voice. There was a man sitting against a support pillar on the other side of the room and—and she immediately realized why his voice was familiar. Slightly higher, and a different accent, but she understood now. The man had shoulder-length brown hair, a beard, and wide blue eyes. He wore a dirty red hoodie. This whole group…they all looked and sounded alike, didn’t they?

“Should I stop talking again?” He asked.

Laurens blinked. “No, you’re good.” Her voice rasped.

“Okay. Alright.” The man visibly relaxed. “Are you, uh…I mean, you’re probably not doing okay, but how do you feel?”

She considered this. “My head hurts,” she finally said. It sounded inadequate.

“Hm. Yeah, I think it would.” The man pursed his lips. “You, uh. Don’t look good.”

“Thanks.” She pressed a hand to her temple. The other one was still caught on something. “Who’re you?”

“My name’s Jackie.”

“Jackie Donovan?” 

His eyes widened. “How do you know my name?”

Laurens tried to sit up. The pain in her head spiked, but she was able to prop her head on her hand. “My name’s Dr. Rya Laurens. I know your friend Schneep.”

“You do?!” Jackie sat up straight, but then hesitated. “Like, do you work with him? Have…you seen him recently?”

“Yes,” Laurens confirmed.

Jackie’s eyes lit up. He leaned forward. “How is he? Is he good? What happened?”

“I’m not sure ‘good’ is the right word for it,” Laurens mumbled. “You’re probably thinking right now that…that I work with Schneep at his hospital, the one where he was a surgeon. I don’t. I work at Silver Hills.”

“ _Oh._ ” Jackie leaned back again. He bit his lip, thinking. “That’s the, uh, psych ward, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s a mental hospital, it’s not the same thing,” Laurens said.

Jackie seemed to cringe. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“So, uh…” Jackie shifted where he was sitting. “H-how is he? Are they taking care of him?”

“I mean, I suppose so,” Laurens said. “I’m his therapist. _I’m_ certainly trying to help, but I can’t speak for everyone. And I don’t know what’s happened since I…” She frowned. “What day is it?”

“Um…” Jackie glanced over at a nearby section of wall, one within arm’s length of where he was sitting. Laurens suddenly noticed the marks on the plaster, done in what looked like blue marker. Tally marks, divided into roughly eight groups. “I think it’s the twenty-first? Of August.”

Last she checked it was the fifteenth. “It…it’s been a week,” she realized. “I don’t remember any of it.”

Jackie nodded. “That happens sometimes. Let me guess, it’s all a blur? You sort of remember being, like, aware but not thinking anything?”

“…that…yeah.” Laurens shook her head, then immediately stopped; it was making her headache worse. “What am I doing here? What are _you_ doing here?”

Jackie laughed hysterically. “I mean, your guess is as good as mine! If it’s been a week, he probably wants you alive! Unless he just hasn’t gotten around to it yet! By the way, can I have my Sharpie back?”

Laurens was confused, until she looked around the nearby area and saw a blue Sharpie on the ground. She picked it up and threw it in Jackie’s direction. The throw went wide. By a lot.

“Fuck,” Jackie swore. “Hang on.” He reached out to the Sharpie, leaning forward, but wasn’t quite there. With another muffled curse, Jackie crawled towards it. And it was then when Laurens noticed the cuff around his ankle, connected to the nearby pillar by a very short length of chain. Realizing this, Laurens looked back at her other hand, the one that kept being yanked back. And no wonder. She was handcuffed to a pipe.

“Got it!” Jackie grabbed the Sharpie by his fingertips, retreating back to his spot by the pillar. “Sorry. I just don’t want to lose this.”

“It’s okay,” Laurens said softly. “I get it.”

Jackie pulled at the sleeves of his hoodie. “So…I know you said you haven’t seen Schneep for a while, but how was he the last time you saw him?”

Laurens thought about that. “He was getting better. He’d just gone through a bad episode, though, so not 100% good.”

“He recovering?”

“Yes, as far as I could tell. I got him new medication, but hopefully it would decrease his symptoms.”

“Symptoms?” Jackie frowned. “Oh. Yeah, I guess he has been unmedicated for some time. Best to take care of that, before dealing with everything else.”

Now Laurens frowned. “Wait, everything else?”

“Yeah? I stopped seeing him in—” Jackie glanced at the tally marks again, counting. “—May, and you’re a therapist, so. You know. Everything else.” He waited, but Laurens still looked confused. “Um…you know. Being kidnapped isn’t going to leave someone _okay_ —”

“Wait, he was kidnapped?!” Laurens repeated.

“Yes! Why do you think—look around at this place!” Jackie gestured at the room. “Do you think either of us are here because we want to be?! The hell did you _think_ happened to Schneep?”

“I don’t know, he wouldn’t say anything about it, but the police assumed he left of his own—”

“Wait wait wait,” Jackie held up a hand. “So…the police don’t know about him?”

“Of course they know about Schneep. How could they not, after all…” Laurens hesitated. “You know. The things that happened.”

“No, I wasn’t talking about Schneep.” Jackie insisted. “I was talking about… _him_.”

The way he emphasized the _him…_ it reminded Laurens of the way Schneep would talk. “Do you mean…the thing Schneep’s been hallucinating about?”

Jackie looked shocked. “So. They don’t know, then? Wait, do they think Hen did it all by himself?!”

Laurens looked at Jackie, puzzled. “He…didn’t?”

Jackie buried his face in his hands. He didn’t say anything for a while. “Oh my god,” he finally said, words muffled. They sounded almost like a sob. “You don’t know. No one knows, do they?”

Laurens sat up. She was beginning to figure out that things were a lot more complicated than she thought. But maybe now she could get some answers for everything. “Know what. Who…who is this _he?_ ”

Jackie looked up at her. His eyes were red, like he was about to cry. Like he’d realized something. Maybe he realized that, if the police didn’t know what was going on, there wasn’t a good chance of either of them ever being found.

“He calls himself Anti.”


	9. Delusions and Discussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase, Marvin, and JJ meet up for a fun get-together, but things come to light, and difficulties are had...and it turns out they aren't the only ones having a rough time.

Chase’s phone pinged with a text notification. Before he even looked at it, he knew it was Marvin. He sighed, deliberately not reaching into his pocket to get his phone out. Instead, he continued loading dishes into his dishwasher. He had energy for one task today and he was sick of seeing the pile in the sink.

The text tone went off a few more times before Chase had finished. He sighed, putting the last tea mug into the washer and closing the door. He pressed the button to start it before walking over to the kitchen table and collapsing in one of the chairs. Only then did he take out his phone and look at the repeated texts Marvin had sent him.

**Hey you still coming? JJs a** **lready here were not gonna start without you.  
** **Hey did you get my last text?  
Hey are these sending?  
Chase do you still want to come?**

Chase winced. Maybe he should’ve picked up sooner. Marvin wouldn’t say it, but he got nervous when people didn’t reply. Chase texted a quick reply saying he’d been caught up in something and he was on his way now. Then he sat at the kitchen table for five more minutes before actually standing up and heading to his car, throwing on a jacket and his cap so he’d look a little bit more put together.

It was a Wednesday. He knew this because of two reasons: he had to remember to visit Schneep in two days, and Marvin had texted him last Wednesday asking if he wanted to come over for a little get-together. “ **Were gonna watch otgw and have cake** ,” he’d texted. “ **Consider it a late birthday party :) Yknow, for me kslahfjd** ” Of course Chase didn’t want to let him down, so he said he’d be there. He promised. He’d resolved that he’d do one task today, and then go over to Marvin’s house for cake. That would be his reward for completing the task.

He arrived fifteen minutes later, parking on the street before walking up to the door and knocking. “Don’t come in!” He heard Marvin shout. Two minutes after that, Marvin opened the door, holding the bundle of cat fluff that was Ragamuffin. “Get in quick, Luna’s got the zoomies,” Marvin said. Chase nodded, and stepped inside. 

Quickly closing the door behind him, Chase saw that the house was back to normal, or at least to how it was before Marvin left. There were folded cardboard boxes against one wall, leaning flat against it, but otherwise everything was in order. Marvin’s posters and knickknacks were scattered about as usual. JJ was sitting on the sofa, holding Luna the cat to his chest, even though she was trying hard to wiggle free. Once JJ noticed Chase had closed the door, he opened his arms and let Luna go free. She landed on his lap, jumped to the coffee table, ran across the surface, jumped onto the floor, and proceeded to zoom across the room at breakneck speed. “Are you seeing ghosts?” Marvin asked her in his special I’m-talking-to-a-cat voice. “Do they spook you?” He leaned over and let Ragamuffin hop out of his arms, who huffed and went to sit on top of the snake terrarium.

“Cuties,” Chase muttered. “Anyway, what’s up so far?”

“Not much. We got the cake and plates and stuff out.” Marvin gestured to the coffee table, where a tall chocolate cake sat under a plastic container. There was a stack of three plates, accompanied by knives and forks. “We considered making popcorn, but figured you’d probably want to be here for that.”

“You could’ve gotten started without me,” Chase said, smiling nervously. 

“Yeah. But we didn’t. We’ve just been chilling.”

And Chase had kept them waiting. He tried not to visibly wince. “Well, we can get started now.”

 _Cake first, then the movie?_ JJ suggested.

“Sounds great!” Marvin said cheerfully. He suddenly reached out and grabbed Chase’s hand, swinging it slightly. “Glad you could make it, dude!”

“Hah. Glad to be here.” And he was. Really, he was.

They ended up sprawled across the living room, with Marvin on the sofa, JJ in the armchair, and Chase perched on the sofa’s back like a bird. They’d sliced the cake and started eating, making meaningless small talk. They talked about work for a bit, with Marvin mentioning he was looking for a new job, hopefully something he could preform in. Chase briefly touched on his situation running his own channel and Jack’s, but he quickly moved on; didn’t want to unload everything on the other two. From there, the conversation switched to various games. JJ had been playing Subnautica, so the other two gave him tips and hints. Then Luna ran back into the room, stared at them, and ran back out, so Marvin gushed about his cats for a bit.

Chase had moved back down to the couch and was going in for a second slice of cake—it was rich cake, but his first slice had been pretty thin—when he noticed it. There was a manila folder on the coffee table. One which looked familiar. “Hey.” He picked it up. “Isn’t this the, uh, case file thing? You still have it?”

Marvin shrugged. “Well you haven’t asked for it back. I read through it already, but I’m…doing some rereading.” His brows furrowed, in confusion. “I thought I’d read something recently, wanted to see if it was in that. Do you want it back?”

“No, no, I’m good.” Chase started thumbing through the papers. He didn’t linger too long on any one of them, especially not the ones with photographs. A few words stood out: crime scene, fingerprints, flashes of names.

JJ cleared his throat, and stood up. _I’m going to make some tea,_ he said. _Either of you want anything?_

“No. But thanks,” Marvin replied.

“Yeah, um, I’m good, thanks,” Chase said.

JJ nodded, and vanished through the doorway leading to the kitchen.

“Do you…think we made him uncomfortable?” Chase whispered to Marvin.

“I…don’t know.” A flash of sudden panic flew over Marvin’s face. “Why, did we say something?”

“I don’t know, he just kind of left suddenly.”

“I thought he just wanted tea.”

“I mean, he could.” Chase looked down at the case file in his hands, folding it closed. “But I think…h-he also seems a bit uncomfortable when we mention Schneep. I guess the last visit he had with him kind of freaked him out. But I think they’d really like each other, you know.”

“Yeah, they have a similar vibe,” Marvin nodded. “Damn, I really need to go see Schneep. I keep forgetting. I say, ‘I’ll put it in my calendar after I’m done with this thing’ and then I forget while I’m doing the thing, so I forget to make a note of it, so I forget to do it all together.”

“God, mood, bro,” Chase sighed, rubbing his eyes. “But at least you managed to see Jack, so that’s something.”

Marvin suddenly snapped over to look at Chase. “How do you know about that?”

Chase paused, confused. “I…was there?”

“You were? You saw me?”

“Um…yeah?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Marvin asked, sitting up straight.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Chase shook his head, now utterly baffled. “I did say something. Multiple somethings!”

Marvin sat his plate on the coffee table. “Well, I guess I didn’t hear you. You should’ve walked up to me instead of just going away, it would’ve been less awkward.”

“Dude! We had a whole-ass conversation!” Chase gaped. “ _You_ came up to _me_ first, remember?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

“When we ran into each other at the hospital?” Chase asked. “Remember? I was in Jack’s room, and you came in and said you wanted to talk to Jack so I left? The twenty-first of August? Any of this ringing a bell?”

Marvin held up a hand, asking Chase to pause. He reached inside his pocket and pulled out his phone, unlocking it. A few swipes later, Marvin looked up at Chase with wide eyes. “The twenty-first?”

“Yeah.” Chase nodded.

“Um…Chase…” Marvin said slowly. “I just checked my calendar, and I didn’t go see Jack until the twenty-seventh. You weren’t there at all.”

“What?” Chase just stared at him. “Is…is this a prank? Cause it’s kind of a mean one, bro. My memory’s already shitty enough.”

“I swear to you this isn’t a prank or anything, Chase. _I wasn’t there._ ”

Marvin sure _sounded_ serious enough. But he’d always been good at putting on a performance. Chase shook his head firmly, and stood up. “No, I saw you there. Stop fucking…don’t lie to me. I have enough to deal with.”

“I’m not lying to you!” Marvin got to his feet as well. “Chase, I don’t know what you saw, but it wasn’t me!”

“Well I don’t see things!” Chase protested. “I never had before, so why would I start now? Why would I just imagine you being there?”

“I don’t know!” Marvin started biting his thumbnail, but then stopped to ask Chase a question. “What happened when you saw me there? What did I say?”

“This is ridiculous,” Chase muttered. “I don’t know, you knocked on the door, cause I closed it, so I opened it. Then you were like, ‘oh so you are here, are you busy’ and I was like, ‘no, nice shirt, hey it’s been a while,’ and you said, ‘yeah, do you mind if I talk to Jack?’ and I said, ‘no, it’s okay, I’ll wait outside,’ so I waited until you came out and I went in to say goodbye to Jack and then I left too.”

“What shirt was I wearing?” Marvin interrogated. “Why’d you comment on it?”

“I don’t know, it was a green T-shirt, I thought it was a little weird so I said something about it.” Chase shrugged.

Marvin inhaled sharply. “You thought it was a little weird that I was wearing that, when I only wear green for St. Paddy’s Day and I hate the feeling of wind on my skin?”

“I mean, yeah a little, but—”

“I don’t _own_ a green t-shirt, Chase!” Marvin suddenly shouted. “You know I don’t like them! You can go look in my closet and hamper if you want, I don’t have anything like that.”

“Well, who was it, then?” Chase demanded. “What, are you saying that someone was pretending to be you—”

_Crash!_

Marvin and Chase turned in unison towards the sound. JJ was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking very pale. The remains of a ceramic mug were shattered at his feet, tea spilled across the floor. “Jameson?” Chase asked. “Are you alright?”

Jameson was frozen, barely breathing, eyes wide. Marvin took a step forward, reaching out a bit. “Hey, is something wrong?” When Jameson didn’t respond, Marvin walked the rest of the way towards him. “JJ, please, you’re—”

Jameson suddenly turned around and dashed back into the kitchen. Marvin looked back at Chase, then darted into the kitchen as well. Chase hurried to follow.

The kitchen didn’t look any different than usual, so nothing in there could’ve upset Jameson. The closest thing to something out of place was the kettle, sitting on the counter. Nevertheless, Jameson was sitting on the floor, hands braced against one of the cabinets, head tilted down, shaking as he heaved in deep gulps of air. 

“JJ?” Marvin hesitated, then approached, getting down on his knees next to JJ. Chase leaned over the both of them, unsure what to do. “JJ, what’s wrong?”

“Ahh!” Chase jumped once he realized Jameson made that sound. “Ahh! Uuh! Hnnm nnihh, annn!” They were sounds of distress, made by a voice that couldn’t wrap itself around words. “Eee! Eh, eehhhn!” Tears were starting to drip from his eyes.

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay!” Marvin held up his hands, as if to keep them both in Jameson’s line of sight. “What do you need? Are you okay with touching?”

Jameson shook his head furiously. “Nnuh, nnnah, nnn—tih-tih-tih—”

“Okay, got it, no touching.” Marvin was careful to keep his voice soft. He looked up at Chase and shook his head, at a loss for how to proceed beyond that.

Chase, meanwhile, was scrambling over his knowledge about what to do when someone was having a panic attack. He’d looked this up before, but…well, he’d never expected to be using these steps with Jameson. Jameson had always been the calm, cheerful one. Chase shook his head. Stop concentrating on the unexpectedness of it, just go. He walked around to Jameson’s other side, slowly sitting on the floor. “Hey Jays, I need you to breathe with me, okay? Look at me. Can you do that?” Jameson managed to turn his head to the side, eyes catching on Chase. “Okay, good. Just watch me and do it with me, okay? In and out. In…” He inhaled slowly. “…and out.” Exhaled slowly. “In…” Inhale. “…out.” Exhale.

After a while, Jameson managed to keep pace with Chase’s breathing. Chase nodded encouragingly. “You’re doing great. Now, you know the 5 senses method, right? Can you do that now? Start with five things you see.”

Jameson pulled away from the cabinet a bit, casting his eyes around the kitchen. His hands came up, and he began to sign, shakily listing things he saw. _Kettle. Fridge. Cabinets. Marvin. You._

“Good, good job. What about five things you can hear?”

That one took a little bit longer. _You. Cats. Fridge. Lights._

“Very good. Three things you can touch?”

His hands patted the area around him. _Cabinet. Tile floor. Clothes._

“Nice. And two things you can smell?”

Jameson’s tense posture had loosened up by this point, no longer breathing as quickly. _Spilled tea. Marvin’s detergent._

“You’re almost there. Just one more. One thing you can taste?”

 _Cake from earlier._ Jameson closed his eyes, slumping back against the cabinet. _Thanks, Chase._

“Hey, no problem.” Chase smiled, even if Jameson couldn’t see it. “Is there anything else you need? Like a blanket or something?”

_That would actually be good._

“I’ll get one,” Marvin said, standing up and leaving the room.

“Anything else?” Chase asked. “Do you want me to drive you home or something?”

Jameson shook his head. _I want to keep going like this didn’t happen. Can we just…forget it?_

“Oh, of course.” Chase nodded. “Yeah, we’re all just gonna—just gonna put everything in a box. Then we’re gonna close the box, duct tape it closed, and shove it under a bed. Never to be seen again, unless you want it to be.”

JJ chuckled, opening his eyes. _Alright, then._

Marvin reappeared, holding two different folded blankets. “I got a normal one and then I got the weighted one Grandmam got me. Which do you want?”

“Weighted one? That’s new,” Chase remarked.

“Yeah, she just got it when I went to visit. Dude, it’s so great. And I heard it helps with anxiety problems and stuff. So I figured, I mean, if you want, y’know.”

JJ nodded. _That sounds great. Can we go back to the living room?_

“Yeah.” Chase got to his feet, holding down a hand for JJ to take. “Let’s go. You still want to watch the movie?”

 _Of course._ JJ took Chase’s hand, letting him help him stand. _But technically it’s a mini-series._

“Movie’s shorter,” Chase said with a small grin. “Now c’mon.”

The show passed in mostly silence, with a break to make popcorn after twenty minutes. Marvin couldn’t help but add commentary, but they didn’t have a conversation through the show as they might have otherwise. JJ remained in his place in the armchair, Marvin’s weighted blanket wrapped around him like a burrito. Once it was over, Chase turned the lights back on, ruining the illusion of them being in a movie theater.

“I love this series, guys,” Marvin said, a big smile on his face. He waved his arms, slapping his legs. “Guys, I love it so much.”

“It’s a good show,” Chase agreed, returning to sit on the couch. “I like the message about being siblings. I could show it to Sophie and Nick, but they’re a little young.” He chuckled. “Maybe in six years.”

Jameson was quiet for a while. His expression was unreadable. Then seemingly out of nowhere, he signed, _Did you know I was in a car crash once?_

“Wh—” Chase’s mind went blank. He could only gape at Jameson. What—? Why—? Well, sorry, of course, but—what? He realized that this was the true definition of being speechless. He couldn’t think of words, and if he could, he wasn’t sure he would say them.

Marvin, after a stunned silence, cleared his throat and said, “JJ, are you sure you want—?”

 _Chase didn’t know,_ Jameson signed idly. _Didn’t I ever tell you? You know I was in the foster system._

“I—I just—” Chase shook his head. “I didn’t think to…to ask, like…that’s not something you ask someone. Why they were a foster kid, I mean. I…”

Jameson was leaning back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling. _I suppose that’s fair. I’ve told Marvin, but not you or Jackie. Maybe I should. Yes, that’s what happened. Family car ride. Someone in another car fell asleep at the wheel, head-on collision. Mum and Dad didn’t make it, and I hit my head pretty hard, and now I can’t talk. It’s called acquired apraxia._ He spelled out the second word so there could be no mistaking it.

“That…” Chase shifted in his seat, once again rendered speechless. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Marvin reach forward and pick up the manila folder that was Schneep’s case file. He started flipping through it, probably to avoid feeling awkward. “That’s…awful, Jays, I’m so sorry.”

 _Thank you,_ Jameson signed. _You can guess what happened from there. Mum and Dad were the last of their respective lines, so into the foster system it was. Didn’t get out until I was sixteen. Don’t think people wanted kids that were “damaged.”_

“That’s bullshit,” Chase growled. “Kids are kids. If you’re not prepared for a ‘difficult’ one—” He spat out the word like it tasted dirty. “—then you’re not prepared at all.”

Jameson smiled. _You’re a good dad, Chase._

“Oh. Um, thanks.”

 _Family should stick together, you know._ Jameson paused. _They should always look out for each other._ He fell silent. The room was filled with tension, thick enough to feel it as you breathed. Jameson raised his hands—

“That’s the bitch!” Marvin suddenly shot to his feet. Chase and Jameson jumped, comically in sync, and looked over at him. “Oh. Sorry, guess I startled you.” Marvin smiled sheepishly. “I just got excited.” He looked down at the case file he was holding. “Were you guys…talking?”

Jameson shook his head hurriedly. He looked like he very much regretted what he was saying, like he’d been in a trance that he just now came out of. He even looked a little…horrified. But he put on a shaky smile. _What is it, Marvin?_

Oh, I was just—” Marvin opened the file to a spot he’d marked with his finger. “You know Schneep got a new doctor, since the last one disappeared?”

“Yeah,” Chase said. “Dr. Newson.”

“Yes, yes! That’s the bitch!” Marvin nodded excitedly. “I tried to visit Schneep outside of visitors’ hours, and she came out to tell me off for it. I thought her name was familiar, like I’d read it somewhere, and it’s in here.” He pulled a series of stapled papers out of the file, flipping to a specific one and reading it over. “There was this big Christmas incident, with video clues and a search for five people. Three of those people ended up dying, and apparently the third was named Jeremy Newson.” He looked up at the others. “That can’t be a coincidence. It’s not the most common name.”

Chase sat up straight. “Gimme that paper.” Marvin handed it to him. Chase scanned the details of the incident. Which included a picture of the victim, Jeremy. “He _does_ look like the doctor lady,” Chase realized. “Holy shit, how has nobody else realized this?”

“I don’t know, I’m guessing that not everybody looked at this section,” Marvin shrugged. “And the people who did probably didn’t know of Dr. Newson when they read it.”

“If she’s related to one of the guys who Schneep supposedly killed, is that a conflict of interest?” Chase wondered. “Can we sue her?”

“I don’t know, do we need to sue her?” Marvin asked.

“I dunno, she was kind of…” Chase made a vague gesture. “There was a tone issue, when I last talked to her, let’s say that.”

“Tones probably aren’t good grounds for suing.” Marvin’s eyes were alight. “We’d need proof that she was actually doing shit.”

“We don’t _know_ if she’s doing anything, though,” Chase pointed out. 

“Can we find out?”

JJ coughed, drawing the other two’s attention. _I don’t think we should go about suing people willy-nilly,_ he said. _Someone worse could come along, easily._

Marvin frowned. “I guess.” He paused. Chase handed the stapled papers back to him, and he replaced them in the file, closing it. “You guys want to stick around any more? Or is it time to go home?”

Chase smiled softly. “I’m…I’m ready to go home, if that’s okay.” He was very, _very_ tired. The little gathering had turned out to require more energy than he expected, and he was now into below-zero, in terms of energy. He wanted to lie down forever and never wake up.

“Alright, that’s cool,” Marvin nodded. “JJ?”

 _I can stay for some time longer,_ JJ said, considering. _Not too long, though._

“Got it. In that case, see you later Chase? Text you or something?”

Chase shrugged. “Sure.” He wasn’t sure if he’d answer, but Marvin could just text him anyway. In case.

 _Goodbye, Chase,_ JJ signed.

“Bye, Jays.” Chase headed to the door.

“Wait!” Marvin looked around. “Where’s Luna? Is she in zooming-toward-the-door range?”

 _She’s not in the room, Marvin,_ JJ signed with a smile.

“Alright. Go ahead, Chase.” Marvin waved a bit. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you.” Chase opened the door and went outside, quickly closing it behind him in case the tiny cat was indeed somewhere in the room. Once he was in the clear, standing out in the evening air, he sighed. Deeply.

This had been…a lot. A lot he wasn’t expecting. But he was done with it now. Time to go home, get in bed, and not get out.

Chase walked to his car, pulling his keys out. As he unlocked the door, he saw…something. Someone was sitting on a bench on the side of the road, reading a book. Nothing too strange. But he frowned at the figure anyway. This felt…familiar.

He shook his head, and got inside the car. He was just tired. And ready to get home. So he headed in that direction, never noticing how the figure on the bench turned to follow him with his eyes.

* * *

“You’re gonna break your wrist. Probably.”

“Thank you, Jackie, very help— _ow!_ ”

Jackie looked across the room to where Dr. Laurens was. “Told you.”

Laurens hissed. She’d been trying to yank her hand free of the handcuff for the past five minutes, and it was clear by now that it was too tight for her to make any headway. She sighed, shifting from a crouch down to sitting on the floor. Her wrist throbbed. It felt like the metal of the handcuffs had cut into her skin. And her head was pounding again. She watched Jackie silently for a little bit. “Why do you do that?” she asked.

“What, this?” Jackie was doing sit-ups, curling up and down with his hands behind his head. He didn’t stop to go look at her this time. “You’re the psychologist, you should know about how it’s important to keep a routine when isolated. Until you showed up, I had a period of like three months where I saw literally no one.”

“No one?” Laurens asked. “What about…him?”

Jackie faltered. “He…didn’t really talk to me. Well, h-he did for a little bit, but then he gave up, even when I _did_ see him. So…yeah, he doesn’t count.” He resumed his exercise, now flipping over to do push-ups. “Another reason I do this. So I keep in shape and I can kick his ass when the time comes.” He chuckled, but his words sounded a bit…hollow.

“Hmm.” Maybe she should start up an exercise routine too, then. She was already getting bored, sitting on the floor. Sure, she was handcuffed to a pipe, but Jackie was cuffed to a support pillar, and he’d managed to work around that. “You do anything else?”

“Lot of daydreaming. Remembering. I don’t know.”

They fell silent for a moment. Laurens closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, managing to wedge her head between some of the wooden supports to rest against the cool concrete. She let the headache take over, a tiny drum pounding in her temples and forehead.

Some minutes later, Jackie had given up on his routine, and was now lying on the floor spread-eagle, staring at the bare rafters overhead. “So…what did he want?” He asked softly.

Laurens opened her eyes. “He just asked me a bunch of questions. About Schneep, mostly. Wanted to know…well, everything, basically. Everything that I knew about him.”

“You say anything?” Jackie asked dully.

“No. Nothing at all.” It was easiest to stay quiet entirely, refusing to acknowledge him. Not necessarily _easy,_ but easiest. She recalled now that scarred face with its dual-colored eyes, the way he smiled and cajoled and got close. And she shuddered. “He’s not gonna just ask questions forever, is he?”

“Probably not,” Jackie said plainly. He looked over at Laurens just in time to see the blood drain from her face. “Hey, I mean, it might not be you. Might be me.”

“You?” Laurens repeated, aghast.

“Yeah.” Jackie looked back up at the ceiling. “That’s what he did with Schneep…once I arrived, at least. Hah…stupid me, not telling anyone where I was going, just following a lead on where he went. I should know better by now. But I thought…” He trailed off. “…I thought that…it was just Schneep. That he just left after what happened to Jack. I didn’t think anyone else was involved, but guess I found out the hard way.”

“I’m sorry,” Laurens whispered. “He…Henrik _did_ do those things, didn’t he?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes Anti just wanted help, or for him to hold the murder tools and get his fingerprints all over them.” Jackie folded his arms. “I think it was, like, the first week I got here. Schneep and I got put in a room with some unconscious guy, and Anti told him to kill the guy. Hen didn’t want to, of course, so Anti said that…” He stopped.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Laurens said gently.

“No, I want to,” Jackie said. He took a deep breath. “Anti said that if Hen didn’t kill the guy, then he’d kill me, _then_ the guy. And that he’d do it painfully. I told him not to listen, but then he broke my arm, and Henrik just couldn’t—couldn’t watch it.” Jackie rubbed his upper arm unconsciously. “The guy never even woke up, so there’s that, at least.” His eyes suddenly widened, as if regretting going _that_ far. “Sorry, there’s just something about you that makes me want to talk.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Laurens said. “Which is great. I’m a therapist, helps in work.”

That got Jackie to chuckle. It faded quickly. “Look, you can’t…can’t give him what he wants, okay?”

Laurens stared at him. “I can’t promise that, Jackie.”

“I know. But…just keep that in mind. I-I don’t know.” Jackie rolled over. “I’m gonna go to sleep now. Good night.”

“Good night,” Laurens repeated.

She wasn’t tired. And it wasn’t just because there was only the concrete floor to sleep on. Apparently if you got tired enough, you’d fall asleep anywhere. No, she was busy thinking. She’d been left alone for over two weeks, luckily enough, but it seemed like things were about to change. She…didn’t know how to proceed. She knew she had to get out of here, but how? There was a way, wasn’t there? Because if there wasn’t…she didn’t want to think about it.

She watched the light from the basement window fade, and eventually the buzzing lightbulbs overhead shut off on their own, leaving her in the dark.

* * *

The door closed. It must’ve opened, but he hadn’t heard that, only the swing of it shutting. His head turned to look in the door’s direction. There was someone in the room now. Did he recognize him? He felt like he did. What was the name?

“Hey, Schneep.”

He latched onto that phrase. Friend. Only friends called him that.

_But what if he’s lying?_

He hadn’t considered that. 

_You should be lied to._

_Awful, awful, awful._

Not them again. He looked up towards the ceiling. Augen, Augen. They were staring at him, blinking, all different colors. One of them dropped from its spot on the ceiling, dangling by an optic nerve. He flinched back, growling at it.

“Hey, I need you to—”

He growled at the man, too, backing up and pressing against the wall. No closer. Not until he could figure out if he was lying. The man’s uniform looked familiar. A beige outfit with a nametag that he couldn’t read—why couldn’t he read it? Where were his glasses? His hand touched his face and head, looking for where they could’ve gone. They weren’t there. His nails started to dig. Maybe they were underneath, if he could just get under there—

“Hey! Stop!” The man suddenly surged forward, grabbing his wrist. He yelped in surprise, managing to yank it away, hitting the man’s face in the process.

No grabbing! No no no no, this man wasn’t to be trusted if he suddenly grabbed people. Who knew what would happen next? When would the ropes and cuffs come in? “Nein,” he gasped out. He was shaking, breathing coming a bit harder. He could only manage the one word. “Nein, nein, nein.”

“Just calm down.” The man reached forward. As he watched, the man’s features started to twist. His eyes fell out, dripping along his face, his hair darkening.

_“Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me?”_

It was _him._ “Nein! Geh weg!” He scrambled backwards, his leg hitting the frame of the bed. Bed! That would be safe, safe place from _him._ He immediately fell to the ground, scooting backwards until he was mostly underneath.

_“I can’t underst_

_and you.” “What’s_

_your name?”_ “It’s so good to see y

ou okay.” “Henrik, I ca

n’t stay like this.”

He hid his face in his hands, whining, blinking against the tears. Where was Jackie? Was he alright? Where was Jackie? Where was Jack?

“YOU KILLED YOUR BEST FRIEND!”

He was laughing at him, laughing, laughing. He screamed, trying to plug his ears. There were hands coming for him, hands reaching, and the laughing wouldn’t stop. He saw eyes, one green and one blue. Smiles in the shadow’s face.

“Come with me, Henrik. Come with me, come with me.”

“Get out from under there.”

“I won’t do it again.”

“C’mon, man. You know I won’t hurt you.”

“What’s your name?”

“I just need you to take these.”

“I’m going to keep you.”

One of those voices might be safe. But maybe not. Better safe than sorry. “Geh weg—!” He kicked at the reaching hands, his own too busy trying to cover his ears. “Get away from me! Shut up!”

Where was he? He suddenly realized he didn’t remember. He was in a room, last time he checked. Did that change? He couldn’t see any walls. It was dark. He remembered being out in the dark once. It was raining. And a man had asked him, “Are you okay? You’re blocking the sidewalk.”

Yes, yes. He remembered. He looked up at the man, and he’d mistaken him for someone else. The man had looked very similar to him, it was an easy mistake. He remembered saying, “Jack? What are you doing out here? In the rain?”

And the man had looked confused. “I’m not Jack.”

And he’d laughed. “Do not try to pull this on me, I can tell the difference between all of you. You should go home.”

The man’s confusion had slid away, right off his face as he adopted another mask. “Right, just running some errands.” The man had smiled. “Didn’t know it was going to rain. What are you doing out here?”

“I…don’t know.” He’d said that. He’d said that because he was in rough ocean waves, untethered from the boat that drifted through reality. He’d said that, and he’d started to shake as distress set in. “Again, again. I-I don’t—”

“Hey, it’s okay.” The man had smiled. It was so similar, so easy—not like the smiles he would give him later. “Why don’t we go to my house?”

And he’d nodded. He thought it was Jack. “You know how I get, thi-this will pass.”

“Yeah, I know.” The man had grabbed his arm, and started pulling, and he’d let it happen. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Was he in the house now? Maybe he was. Maybe the man—he didn’t want to say it, he didn’t want to say it—was in the room, like he’d been that night. The man had sat him down on the sofa, and let him talk and chatter, listening intently…maybe too intently. And eventually he’d fallen silent, and then he realized. “You are not Jack,” he said.

“No, I’m not,” the man said.

“I-I am sorry, I just—you look a lot like him—” Later, he’d wonder why he’d ever mistaken the man for Jack. The man’s two-colored eyes, the scars across his neck and face—ah, that was why. The face was astonishingly close, under those scars. He’d wanted to see Jack. So he’d seen him.

“Is this Jack a friend of yours?” The man had seemed interested. Friendly.

“A good friend, very good friend,” he’d said. And then the tears had risen. He remembered covering his mouth. “I think I did something very bad to him.”

And it all came pouring out, the tale of an accidental operation. The man had stayed quiet through it all. And at the end, he’d seemed sympathetic. “Sorry that happened,” he’d said.

“I need to go back, I-I need to fix it.” He’d been shaking with the need to do so.

“You’re not exactly in a good state to.” The man had smiled again. It looked a bit…different. “But if you insist, I can get you a Lyft or something. You’re welcome to stay here.”

“I need to go back,” he’d repeated. “I need to see, a-at least.”

“Alright. Give me a second, I’ll call someone.” The man had stood up. “It’ll be a while, though. You want anything to drink, or something?”

He couldn’t remember if he’d said yes. But he did remember that five minutes later, the man had handed him a mug of coffee. He’d mumbled, “Thank you,” and five minutes after that, he’d finished it. But something was wrong. Everything was slow, slow, slow-motion record with sound distorted enough to make you dizzy. “I feel…I feel strange…” he remembered saying.

And the man had smiled again. “I know.”

And he’d realized he was in trouble.

Wait, when had something grabbed his arm?

He jolted. He was in that room, that room with the white walls, and someone was grabbing him. He screamed, pushing at that someone, hitting them—him—as hard as he could. Let go! Let go! _Let go!_

“Calm down, Schneep.” A man’s voice. “It’s me, remember? I just need you to take these.”

He shook his head. No! No, he didn’t know if he was lying! People lied all the time, _he_ lied all the time! Lied until he couldn’t tell if his memories were right or just more false beliefs—there was a word for those, a word, a word—more delusions! He managed to push away from the man speaking, falling back, tripping onto a bed.

“Please don’t make me do this.” The man—he had no face, no face—set something on a table, and he pulled out—

“No! No no no, nein nein!” No more needles! He hated them, they stored darkness inside and put that darkness in his mind. He couldn’t think with them. He pressed back against the wall, pulling his knees to his chest. He grabbed the nearest object—a pillow, it was a pillow—and threw it at the man. It bounced right off.

“I’m so sorry, this’ll only take a moment.” The man quickly closed the distance, and managed to grab his arm. He tried to pull away, but not quick enough to stop the needle. The man quickly backed up. “It’s just a light sedative, it won’t knock you out.”

He curled up on his side, waiting. It had been _him,_ hadn’t it? He didn’t want to say it, he didn’t want to say it. A. That had to be a name he’d given himself, didn’t it? But it had been A the whole time, hadn’t it? Pretending to be someone else, like he always did, changing faces as easily as changing a set of clothes. He wore people’s bodies—he’d felt A in his body, his, making him do terrible things. What did he want to do now? What was the needle this time?

“Okay. We’re good? Good. Look, just swallow these. I’d give you water, but not allowed.”

He felt…he couldn’t put words to it. There were song lyrics in his mind that would do that, describe it easier. He mumbled… _scattering sparks of thought energy, deliver me and carry me away._

“I’m so sorry, but you need to take this, okay? It’s going to help.”

He wouldn’t open his mouth. It seemed important not to do that. But there was a fog inside his head, weighing down his bones. So when the man squeezed the sides of his face, he let his jaw drop open. Now there was something—he recognized the feel of this. Little round something. Pill. He remembered he was supposed to eat this, right? Yes, yes. It was medicine, it was supposed to help. He swallowed it. He felt…tired.

“Okay. Good.” The man backed away. “I’ll see you later today, Schneep. Okay?”

That song from earlier had more lyrics. They were stuck in his head now. He murmured some that he remembered. _Understand what’s going on inside my mind, doctor I can’t tell if I’m not me._ He liked those ones.

“…okay. I’ll see you.”

The door closed again. He was alone.

But he was never alone.

“Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Puppet boy.”

He whimpered, curling into a tighter ball, squeezing his eyes shut. _He_ was always there.


	10. Break-Ins and Backstories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin develops a plan, starting with gathering evidence in a questionable manner, and later, JJ decides he needs to tell the others something he's been keeping quiet.

Marvin got off the bus a stop earlier than he usually did. Before he set off to walk the rest of the way, he dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone, checking for any calls or messages real quick. He wasn’t sure when he’d next get the chance, and, well…if he had to be honest, he was starting to get a little worried about the other two. He hadn’t seen either of them in person in the last week, and their text messages had grown shorter. Though he kept telling himself he was going to go over and check on each of them in person, he was terrible at remembering to.

No messages from either of them. Marvin put the phone into his bag and sighed. He might message them, but he had a plan to execute today. A plan he’d been meaning to do for a while.

Marvin adjusted the position of his bag on his shoulders, and started down the sidewalk. It was a nice fall day, so he didn’t mind the walk. Besides, the key to this was stealth. He didn’t want to be seen…or recognized. And taking the bus probably would’ve led to either of those results. Though if he _was_ seen, he would probably be recognized, since he _did_ look almost exactly like one of their patients…Doesn’t matter, he just had to get in and look around, and if they caught him after he’d done that, he wouldn’t mind as much.

It wasn’t long before the hospital came into sight. The front doors were right there and easily accessible, but Marvin didn’t go inside. Instead he skirted around to the side of the building. There was an employee entrance, right next to the fence blocking off the back courtyard, with a card reader next to the door. Marvin pulled his shoulder bag off, opening it up and rummaging around inside until he found what he was looking for: a key card. He swiped it through the reader and watched as the red light flashed green. Quickly, he ducked inside, grinning to himself.

He did feel a little bad about nicking the card from one of the orderlies on his last visit, but it was for a good cause. Besides, he’d leave it behind once he’d finished here, and the orderly could have it back. He just wanted it for the access.

Marvin was now inside the halls of Silver Hills. This area was rarely open to people who weren’t staff or patients, but there were handy signs pasted on the walls to help out any new staff members or patients who got confused. Marvin spotted the one for the employee locker room, and followed the hall the arrow pointed down, ready to duck into another room at the first sign of trouble.

Something was up with that Newson lady. In the last few weeks, he’d been to visit Schneep twice, tagging along with Chase, and he could just tellsomething was wrong. There was just this…this _tone_ that he couldn’t quite identify, but definitely didn’t like. Passive-aggressive? Was that the word? Yeah, he was pretty sure that was it. When Marvin and Chase would show up for the visit, she would always needle them about making sure they were _absolutely sure_ that they wanted to do this, and kept dropping hints about how Schneep was dangerous. During the visit, she would sit uncomfortably close, and kept checking her watch. The minute the time was up, she’d push them out.

Marvin was no expert in medical—psychological?—ethics, but he was pretty sure this wasn’t the policy. And knowing what he’d found out a few weeks ago, he was sure Newson was doing this on purpose as revenge for Schneep supposedly killing this relative of hers. He’d tried bringing it up to Chase again last time, but for some reason, Chase hadn’t seemed much concerned about it. And when Marvin had tried to push the point, Chase had blown up, shouting that he didn’t have any proof and he didn’t need to make anything harder.

His guess was that Chase was under a lot of pressure recently.

Well, Marvin had dropped the subject, but hadn’t stopped thinking about it. He’d snagged the orderly’s key card on that visit, and started to hatch his plan. They needed proof? Fine, he’ll get proof.

The employee locker room was simple enough, looking like a gym locker room but without showers or bathrooms. There was an attached closet, door half-open to show rows of spare orderly uniforms. Marvin breathed a small sigh of relief. The plan had been to try and sneak around in his everyday clothes, but now he could blend in. He changed quickly in the small closet. Once back out, he began looking through his bag again. He pulled out a manila folder—Schneep’s case file. Grinning, Marvin shoved the clothes inside the bag, and shoved the back into a locker in the corner, hoping nobody would check that one. Rifling through the case file, he found a second key card: the one to Schneep’s room, the one that had belonged to the old doctor, Lauren or something. Marvin tucked that key card, along with the one that had opened the employee door, into the uniform’s pocket. Clutching the file to his chest so he looked more official, Marvin left, once again wandering the halls.

He found the employee break room next, and snatched up a pad of paper and a pen sitting on one of the tables. Just in case. Then he once again turned his attention to the signs, following them into the halls with actual patient rooms. He knew which room he was looking for. The key card was labelled with it. And luckily, the rooms were numbered, digits written in black on the white doors. He glanced at them as he passed. There were a few other staff members in the halls, recognizable by their uniforms, and even a few patients, but none of them paid him any mind. He was starting to realize that “sneaking around” wasn’t really an option, so he was really lucky the room had backup uniforms, even if the short sleeves made him feel exposed and uncomfortable.

After a few minutes, he found Room 1010. “Alright, here we go,” he whispered to himself. He reached forward to open it, but the door wouldn’t budge, locked. He was vaguely surprised at that. Even though the room had a key, he hadn’t really expected it to be locked. Other kinds of hospitals didn’t lock doors with patients inside. But whatever. He took out the room key and slid it through the reader, then entering the room.

This was…small. Even for a bedroom, it was small. And there wasn’t much in it. The light was on, casting an even white light over everything. Marvin’s eyes were immediately drawn to the bed against one wall. There was a figure huddled underneath white blankets.

Quickly, Marvin crossed the room to stand next to the bed. He dropped the things he was carrying on the nearby table and crouched down so he was at eye-level with the bed. “Hey…Schneep?” It looked like Schneep was asleep. But with how pale he was, Marvin couldn’t help but feel a jolt of nerves. He slowly reached over and shook Schneep’s shoulder. “Schneepy boy?”

“Mnnh..” Schneep’s eyes opened a crack, cloudy underneath his eyelids. He stared blankly at Marvin.

“Oh, you’re awake, that’s great.” Marvin tried to smile. “Hi. I’m um…checking on you. I-I don’t know, the last time I saw you, you were kinda…I don’t know. Out of it, I guess.”

From the looks of things, Schneep was still kind of out of it. He stared at Marvin for a few more silent seconds before lifting his head up. “Mmr—Marvin?” 

“Yeah, it’s me.” Marvin waved a bit. “Like I said…just came to check on you. How, uh…how’re you feeling? Cause you, uh…don’t look too good.”

It wasn’t entirely clear if Schneep could hear what Marvin was saying. Well, he could _hear,_ but it was possible the words weren’t exactly registering. Schneep stared at Marvin for a bit longer before asking, “How…how did you…here? How?”

“I broke in,” Marvin said casually. “I mean, I probably didn’t think it through as much as I should’ve. Or maybe I did and just didn’t think about certain things…a-anyway, enough about that. How’re you feeling?”

Schneep blinked slowly. Then he rolled over, lying on his back instead of his side. “I feel…feel…durcheinander.”

“I don’t know that word,” Marvin admitted. “Is that bad?”

“I…do not like it.” Schneep closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, he tried to sit up. But his movements were slow, confused, and he ended up floundering, arm waving vaguely.

“Oh. Oh! Hey, I-I got you.” Marvin stood up, offering Schneep a hand. Once he took it, Marvin pulled him upright. Schneep leaned forward, suddenly paling further. He covered his hand with his mouth. “You okay?”

Schneep shook his head. “I…sick. I am going to be sick.”

“Like, you’re gonna throw up?” Marvin took a small step backwards. “Um, you need a basket or something? I can just—” He looked around the room again, but there wasn’t a trash can to be found.

“Nein, nein,” Schneep waved him away—or maybe he was trying to do something else that didn’t come through clearly. “You could not get…anything for me.”

“Well I mean, I could. I can stick around for a little bit longer.” In truth, Marvin wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay. He didn’t want to push his luck with the whole trespassing thing. 

“Das ist gut, s fine,” Schneep muttered. “Go back to your…wherever you are from.”

“Ireland? Don’t think I can do that so quickly.”

Schneep chuckled. It faded quickly. “I miss you…Good to see you now, even if…you are not really here.”

Marvin felt his heart plummet. “Um…of course I’m here, Schneep.”

Schneep was shaking his head before Marvin even finished speaking. “No, no, do not try to fool me. I know he killed you.”

“Wh—Schneep, no, I-I’m not dead!” Marvin grabbed Schneep’s nearest hand and squeezed it. “I’m right here! We saw each other, like, two weeks ago? I-I came to visit with Chase, it was…the twenty-eighth, I think.”

Tears were starting to gather in Schneep’s eyes. He didn’t seem to notice, letting them leak out with every blink. “Maybe so…” he whispered, barely audible. “I am not good with the wann und wo recently…but he tells me he killed you.” He shivered a bit. “He did—does not know your name, but I-I recognize you from wh-what he said.” Schneep blinked, looking Marvin over. “Where are the marks? From the…there was a knife…did I fix it? Is that why you are here now?”

Marvin suddenly stiffened, eyes widening. “How did you know—” He stopped himself, letting go of Schneep’s hand and taking a few steps back. “Who…who is this ‘he,’ Schneep? Do we know him?”

“Ja,” Schneep muttered, wrapping his arms around himself. “Of course you know, he killed you.”

“No, I-I—what about before that?” Marvin asked. “Did I know him before that?”

“How would I know that? Vielleicht hast du ihn gekannt, I would not know.”

Marvin shook his head, completely confused for a moment. But then he remembered why he was here. “Nevermind, it’s not important.” He picked up his items from the table, opening the pad of paper to a new sheet and writing down a few notes so he’d remember what had gone on in this visit: _Tired, seems confused, hard to move (bad motor control?), low energy (listless), says he’s nauseous, thinks I’m dead?_ “Schneep, this is important,” he said, looking up again. “Have you…left this room? Other than on Fridays visiting Chase.”

“Have I…?” Schneep frowned, thinking. “I…I do not know.” A few more tears trickled down his face. “Maybe not. Perhaps I have always been here.”

“You haven’t, and I’m trying to make sure you won’t be.” Marvin made a note of what Schneep said. “What about what they give you? You get meds, right?”

“The little pills, yes. There are two of them, and one ist blau und the other is weiß.” He blinked idly. “Different shapes.”

Marvin nodded. He knew enough German to recognize color names, and he wrote them down. “Okay. What about that doctor lady? Newson?”

“New—” Schneep’s expression soured. He tried to scowl, but its fierceness was muffled by the dull look in his eyes. “She hates me.”

“Yeah, I think she does.”

“Always saying I am horrible and a fraud and…” Schneep trailed off. “She hates me.”

“Yeah,” Marvin muttered, finishing up the note he was writing. He nodded, picking up the stack of stuff. “I have to hurry, Schneep. So I have to go now. I…I’ll see you again.”

Schneep nodded, not looking at him. “Go do your dead things,” he muttered.

“I…” Marvin hovered nearby for a moment. Maybe he shouldn’t go…but he had no idea if anyone had seen him yet, and he didn’t want to risk someone coming in to check on Schneep. “I’ll see you,” he said, voice cracking. “Bye, Schneep.”

He headed for the door. Standing in the doorway, he glanced back to give Schneep one last look before leaving, closing the door behind him. He allowed himself one moment, just one moment, to take a deep breath and think about what happened. Then he shook his head, and moved on.

Following the signs again, he found a room labelled “Medication & Med. Records.” It was locked by another key card, but the one he’d used to get in worked here as well, and he slipped inside.

Three walls of the room were lined with small metal cupboards, like P.O boxes. The other wall had a small window with a counter, through which could be seen another hallway. Marvin assumed that was where most of the orderlies and patients would pick up various medications and records. Next to the window were several filing cabinets.

“And this is where things get complicated,” Marvin muttered. He set the stack of stuff on top of a filing cabinet, and looked over the room. The small wall boxes were labelled with numbers, and they all had small keyholes. They were probably locked. “Maybe I don’t need to look inside those,” he said to himself. He then turned his attention to the filing cabinets. The problem here was that these were also locked, as he discovered when he tried to open one. And these were also labelled with numbers, presumably corresponding to the boxes. Marvin swore under his breath. This was fine, though. He’d prepared to face traditional locks like this. Bending over, Marvin reached into his sock and pulled out a few thin, bent pieces of metal. He hadn’t done this in a while, but he was pretty sure he still knew how to do it.

He was kneeling on the floor, fiddling with the locks on one of the filing cabinets in absolute silence, when he heard the door behind him open.

“Wh—hey!”

Marvin stiffened, and shot to his feet, grabbing his stuff and turning around, ready to bolt. But he paused for just a moment. This guy looked familiar…

“Hey, don’t I know you?” The orderly asked. “You look like—aren’t you that Marvin guy?”

“No, my name is, uh, Brandon.” That was a bad name, why’d he choose that one? Why did he hesitate and make it sound super suspicious? Why was he just standing here? “Anyway I was just leaving—”

“You are!” The orderly shouted in realization. “You’re Schneep’s friend! What’re you doing here? Dressed like—”

Marvin bolted for the door. The orderly stepped in front of him, and closed the door. “Fuck!” Marvin shouted, skidding to a halt. Okay, this guy was at least two inches taller than him, and significantly broader. He couldn’t fight his way out. “Look, I promise, I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for being here, wearing one of your uniforms.”

The orderly raised an eyebrow. “And that is?”

He hadn’t been expecting that. So he just blurted out the truth. “I’m pretty sure Dr. Newson is abusing her power and treating Schneep bad because he killed some relative of hers so I snuck in to find proof of malpractice to sue her.” And that sounded totally insane when summed up like that.

For a moment, the orderly stared at him, completely silent. And then, “Oh, wow, I guess it sure sucks that I ran right into you, huh?” He said. “But I guess it sucks even more that I’m not authorized to stop you from doing anything, since I’m not a security officer.”

Marvin blinked, surprised.

The orderly walked right past him, over to the filing cabinets. He reached inside his pocket and took out a ring of keys. Kneeling on the ground, he unlocked one of the drawers. “Guess I’ll just have to keep doing my job I was assigned for the afternoon while you’re here,” he said. “Looking at some of the records.” He pulled out a green file with a plastic tab. Marvin walked a bit closer and noticed it was labelled with a number, and a last name: Schneeplestein. “Just making sure that _both_ _copies_ of them are in here.” The orderly flipped through the file, taking out two sets of stapled paper, one white and one yellow. He put the yellow copy down on the filing cabinet. “Oh, guess I’ll man the window now,” the orderly said, very deliberately looking away from Marvin and the filing cabinets.

Now that was a hint obvious that even Marvin could get it. He darted across the room, snatched up the yellow copy, and ran back towards the door. As he flung it open he heard the orderly say, “Oh no! Guess I’ll have to _call security_ now!”

Marvin didn’t say thank you to the orderly—What was his name? Didn’t it start with an O?—but he hoped the gratitude came across anyway. He clearly didn’t have time to go about looking for anything else, if he really was about to call security. He headed back to the employee locker room.

One quick change back into his clothes later, Marvin was shoving the paper with his notes, the case file, and the yellow copy back into his shoulder bag. He sighed in relief, and headed back. Now he just had to go out the same side door he came in through.

He left the room, went down the hall, and then when he turned the corner he ran into a very familiar face.

“Who the hell—?!” Newson’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. “You’re that crazy Maher guy.”

“I’m not crazy,” Marvin said, bristling. 

“What the hell are you doing back here?!” Newson shouted. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Please leave before I have security remove and arrest you.”

“Not if I arrest you first,” Marvin muttered.

“What?”

“Nevermind. I’m going around you now.” Marvin indeed darted around Newson, already behind her by the time she even processed his words. He was a few steps down the hallway before he paused, turned around, and said, “Hey you know you’re an asshole, right?”

“What?!” Newson looked completely shocked. “You—you break into my place of work, and you call me a—how’d you get in here?!”

“I’m just telling the truth.” Marvin shrugged. Internally, he knew he would regret this, but he couldn’t stop. “Because, you know, I’m pretty sure most people wouldn’t do the things you do in this situation. Isn’t it kind of a conflict of interest?”

Newson suddenly went very, very still. “What are you talking about?” she asked in a low voice.

Marvin folded his arms. “I’m just surprised nobody noticed your family name was in the Christmas case.”

Suddenly, Newson had closed the distance between the two of them. Marvin jumped back, looking up at her. “Do you have a twin, Mr. Maher?” she asked coldly.

“…no,” Marvin said after a long pause.

“Then I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” Newson grabbed Marvin’s upper arm. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand what it’s like when someone you’ve known your whole life, someone you’ve always shared a connection with, suddenly isn’t there anymore.” She leaned close, lowering her voice. “You’re not exactly in a position to be calling me anything right now. If you leave without saying anything else, I’ll just forget this ever happened.” She stared at him a moment more, making sure to keep eye contact even though he kept trying to look away. And then she let go, and stepped back. “Go. Get out of here.”

Marvin hurriedly turned and ran. He didn’t stop until he was out the door and off the hospital property, back on the sidewalk by the road.

Panting, Marvin tried to collect himself. He pressed a hand to his chest, looking down at the ground as he bunched the fabric of his shirt under his fingers. After a moment, he gently hit his leg a couple times with his other hand, not enough to hurt but enough to be noticeable, enough to give him some form of calm.

After a few more moments, he realized he could hear his phone ringing.

Marvin patted his pockets before remembering he put his phone into his bag. He pulled the bag open and dug around inside, grabbing his phone only to see the call drop. His lockscreen was filled with notifications: 4 missed calls from Chase, and at least thirty texts from Chase, too.

That…couldn’t be good.

Marvin dialed Chase’s number. He picked up on the first ring. “Hey, what’s happening? Why are you calling me?” Marvin asked.

“Why the fuck haven’t you been answering?!” Chase shouted on the other end. Then his voice went distant, like he was holding the phone away from his face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Back to normal, though Chase was now whisper-shouting. “I’ve been trying to reach you for like two hours!”

“I was away from my phone, i-it’s a long story,” Marvin said. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Well I went over to JJ’s house to check on him,” Chase explained. “Cause you know, he’s done that for me a lot, so—a-and I hadn’t really seen him since that movie night a few weeks ago, so—and the second he answered the door and saw me, he started freaking out!”

“What? JJ started freaking out?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, I asked him what was up and he was just crying all of a sudden, and hyperventilating, and signing really fast. I-I don’t know why, but he wants to talk to both of us, in person. Says he has something to tell us?”

“What?” What could JJ possibly have to talk about? Not to say that he _couldn’t_ have something to talk about, just that Marvin wasn’t aware of something that was troubling him. Then again, the last few weeks, Jameson had been strangely silent in his texts…

“Get your ass over here!” Chase hissed.

“Yeah I got that part!” Marvin looked around the nearby area. “I’m out, there’s a bus stop nearby. I’ll be there in…I-I don’t know, an hour?”

“An hour?!”

“I’m on the other side of town, so yeah!” Marvin snapped. “Just tell him I’m coming! I-I’ll be there soon!”

“Alright, just hurry!”

Marvin hung up, practically sprinting to the nearby bus stop. He checked the bus schedule and routes on his phone. Yeah, it was starting to look like his ETA of an hour was pretty accurate. He sighed, bouncing in place. It shouldn’t be too long a wait, but he needed to get there soon. Any wait was too long.

* * *

She’d been crying for the past thirty minutes straight. At first out of pain, as she held her left arm closer to her and tried not to move it. It must’ve been broken, or maybe dislocated, she couldn’t be sure right now. But eventually it was less of a shock. No, the tears were for something else now.

Jackie had tried talking to her at first, but backed off once he realized she wasn’t going to respond. But he was growing worried now, she could see it in his face, even from here. “What happened?” he asked again. “Are you okay?”

Laurens stared up at the ceiling, as if she could see through it to the ground floor of the house above. Tears trickled downward. “I…I think he might kill me,” she whispered.

Jackie tried to inch closer, even though he was already as far out as the chain would allow him to be. “Why?”

She blinked rapidly. “Because I gave him what he wanted.” She let out a choked sob. “I-I couldn’t do it, I-I’m not—not strong like this, I—”

“Hey, Rya. You’re plenty strong,” Jackie said, offering her a smile. “It’s been, what, a little over a month? That sounds pretty good to me.”

Laurens wiped at her eyes with her good hand; the other one had been handcuffed to the pipe again. “…thanks,” she breathed. Then she cleared her throat and spoke up louder. “Thanks. But…but I still think—I’m going to—oh god, no. Please. I-I don’t want to—”

“You don’t know that he’s going to—”

“Why wouldn’t he? H-he has no reason to k-keep me around.” Laurens shuddered. “I should’ve kept quiet. But I-I told him everything.” She paused. “I-I don’t even know why he’s so concerned about Henrik. Why he wants to…know everything. B-but I couldn’t do it anymore.” A morbid laugh escaped her mouth. “Well, what can he even do with all of that? A few notes about his condition that are probably actually kind of inaccurate, given what I know now. It’s useless.” Maybe that was why she stopped protecting it. Because she thought there was nothing he could do with the information that he wanted so much, for some unknown reason. But maybe that was just what she said to herself to justify it.

Jackie was quiet for a long, long moment. He wouldn’t look at her. “Well…you don’t know if he’ll…you know.” He tried to shrug nonchalantly. “I thought after Schneep was taken he’d…you know. I-I wouldn’t be around anymore. But instead we just…I-I don’t know, hung out in an apartment for a couple weeks.”

“Really?” Laurens asked idly.

“Yeah. I don’t remember much of it, he…I was…he put a lot of shit in my system,” Jackie finally said. “So, y’know, pretty out of it.” He shook his head. “Anyway, my point is, you never know with him.”

Laurens didn’t say anything to that. Jackie didn’t say anything else. The two of them fell silent for a few minutes. Laurens watched the light coming from the basement window gradually dim and fade. What time was it? Not sunset, since there was still light. If she’d been keeping track of the days correctly, it was October, and the sun set around six. So maybe it was around five. She sighed. Why was she even bothering to figure this out? Was she that bored? She was surprised that her boredom could overcome the intense fear that she was going to die.

Because she was _convinced_ that was going to happen. This man, this…Anti… he killed thirteen people, directly and indirectly. What was one more?

She didn’t want to die.

Tears were rising to her eyes again. She shifted her sitting position, and cried out when this jostled her broken arm. Scowling, she looked down at the arm and the cuff holding it down. And after a moment, she yanked at it, gasping at the sudden surge of pain.

Jackie sat up straight. “Rya…what’re you doing?”

“I-I don’t know.” Laurens gritted her teeth. “I-I just—” She yanked again, crying out a bit. And again, this time biting her lip to stop from making any sound.

“Please stop,” Jackie said, reaching out. “You’re going to make it worse.”

“I don’t care.” Yank. “I just—” Yank, this time with more force, enough to put her off balance. She yelled. “I don’t want to go out like—!” _Yank._ She cried out. “I want to try!” She shouted. She steadied herself, grabbing her broken arm with her good one. “I want to—!”

She screamed.

“Rya!” Jackie instinctively darted forward, only to be suddenly pulled back by the ankle cuff. He yelped. “Rya! Are you okay?!”

For a moment, Laurens couldn’t answer. She was crying again. Her entire arm was on fire, caught in a brace of white-hot pain, concentrated on her wrist. For a moment, all she could do was lie on her back where she’d fallen back. Slowly, she went to grip her wrist—her wrist!

She looked down. The wrist of her left arm was free; there wasn’t a handcuff around it anymore. Her eyes widened. She moved her wrist a bit to see if it was true, only to immediately cry out when the pain flared to a higher intensity. She fell back against the floor, but one minute later, she sat up again. With her good arm, she used a nearby wooden support to stand up. She kept staring downward. Her legs wobbled from disuse, but she wasn’t tethered to the pipe anymore. “I…”

“Holy shit…” Jackie whispered. “Did…did he make it a little loose?”

“Maybe,” Laurens muttered. Not too loose, but enough to pull free—with the price of dislocating her wrist, of course, but that was a price she was willing to pay. She suddenly snapped to attention, spinning around to look at the basement room. “Jackie!” She gasped, and ran across the room to him, falling to her knees beside him. “Jackie, don’t worry, I’m gonna get you out of here.”

“You’re—oh!” Jackie started as she suddenly grabbed his ankle, rolling up his pants with one hand to look at the cuff around it. He heard her inhale sharply, breath hissing. Though he’d tried to cushion the cuff with his sock, he slipped up sometimes, enough times that there was no a ring of bruising and scabs around his ankle. “Be careful, please.”

“I will, I will.” Laurens turned the cuff over, trying to be as gentle as possible. Thick metal, with a single hole for a key…more like an old-fashioned manacle than a modern day handcuff. She frowned, and scooted over to look at the support pillar Jackie was tethered to. The chain was wrapped tightly around the pillar, secured with a combination lock. “Fuck,” she cursed, pulling at the lock. “Th-there’s a way to pick these, I-I think. You’re supposed to take something thin and jab it…I-I don’t know, somewhere—”

“Rya.”

“—or you can try to figure out the combo by, like, listening for clicks or something? I can—”

“Rya!” Jackie snapped. Laurens fell silent, looking up at him. “I think we both know there’s no way you can undo this.”

Laurens stared at him. Then she shook her head. “Sh-shut up, I-I’m sure there’s something upstairs—”

“He’s probably up there right now.”

“—or I can try to pull you out—”

“With a broken arm?”

“—maybe you can get your foot out the same way I got my hand out—”

“Yeah, there’s not enough space for that, and even if there was, I think I’d just slow you down with a broken ankle.” Jackie smiled sadly. “I…I think we both know what’s got to happen.”

“No!” Laurens immediately protested. “I’m not leaving you behind!”

“Well it’s better than him coming back to see you walking around and locking you up again or worse!” Jackie suddenly snapped. “Look, you can come back if you want, but your time frame here is very, _very_ limited!” He leaned closer, grabbing Laurens’s unbroken arm. “Think about the bigger picture. Anti’s going to keep on doing what he’s doing. Someone has to stop him, but only three people even know he exists. Two are in this fucking basement and the other one is in a mental hospital. You have to do something about it! Don’t—” His voice cracked. “Don’t stay here and focus on one person when we could be saving who knows how many more.”

Laurens stared at him silently. She didn’t want to…but…he had a point. After a long moment, she suddenly wrapped her arms around him, giving him a tight hug. She heard him gasp at the sudden contact, and then he absolutely melted. The hug lasted only a few seconds; she didn’t want to risk any longer, even if she wanted to. “I’m going to the police,” she said. “And I’ll come back to get you. If I have to scream my head off at the station, I will.”

Jackie blinked furiously. “Y-yeah…you do that. Good luck.”

Laurens nodded, standing back up. Looking around the room, she considered her options. She could go find stairs up and try to sneak out the front door, but Anti was probably there…her eyes landed on the small folding table shoved in the corner. She quickly crossed over there, pushing an empty orange crate out of the way with her foot, and slowly, awkwardly pulled the table over to underneath the basement window. By the time it was there, she was panting, tears dripping from her eyes since she’d had to use her broken arm to pull it. But she wasn’t done yet. She climbed on top, wobbling up to a standing position. Gripping the windowsill with both hands, she looked at the window. With her good arm, she slid the window open, gasping as the sudden shift of position required caused her dislocated wrist to flare up. But the window was open. Thank god she wasn’t a large person.

She glanced back at Jackie. “I’ll see you,” she whispered, not daring to say goodbye.

“See you,” Jackie responded with a small wave.

Laurens nodded, and hoisted herself upward. Wriggling through the window, she clawed at the ground outside and managed to pull herself out. She didn’t bother to close the window behind her. Breathing heavily, she stood up, and looked around. The window was on the back of the house, and she was now standing in a tiny, weed-ridden yard. She rounded the house to the front, finding the street and the sidewalk.

She didn’t recognize this part of town. But she could find out where it was. Glancing back, she noted the number embossed on the house’s front door. 860…now she just needed a street number. And to figure out where the police station was in relation to this.

Taking a deep breath, Laurens reached the sidewalk and broke out into a run.

* * *

Someone was pressing the button to contact the intercom inside JJ’s apartment. Chase swore, looking over at the intercom system connected to the living room’s wall. “Jays, hold on, I think that’s him,” Chase muttered.

JJ nodded. As Chase stood up from the couch, he pulled his legs up onto the sofa cushions, hugging his knees to his chest and burying his face in his arms. Chase glanced back at him before pressing the intercom button. “Marvin?” he asked.

“Yeah!” Marvin’s voice came through with barely a crackle; the apartment building’s intercom system was really high quality. “Buzz me in!”

“Got it,” Chase said, pressing the button. He hurried back to the sofa to sit next to JJ again. “See, he’s coming. It’s all gonna work out.” He reached out, but stopped just before making contact with JJ. “Is…is touching okay?”

JJ didn’t look up as he signed, _Just a little bit. Be careful._

Chase nodded understandingly, and started gently rubbing circles on Jameson’s back. He was on high alert, looking for any sign that JJ wanted him to stop.

Soon, frantic knocking came from the front door. Chase stood up again, and walked over to open the door. Marvin burst inside, practically knocking him over. “Sorry,” Marvin said absentmindedly. His eyes landed on Jameson, and he rushed over. “H-hey I’m here. Are—are you okay? Chase just said you had something to tell us a-and were all freaking out about it—are you okay?”

JJ looked up. He gestured for the two of them to sit down. They did so, with Chase sitting on the couch next to him and Marvin pushing a nearby armchair closer. For a moment, he just stared at the two of them. His eyes were rimmed with red, and he was clearly breathing a little quicker than usual. _I can’t keep this from you guys any longer,_ he signed, hands shaking. _Especially now that it’s…involved with you._

“Involved with us?” Chase repeated, confused.

Jameson nodded. _I never thought…_ he trailed off.

“Well…whatever it is, you can tell us about it,” Marvin said, his tone firm but supportive. “We…we won’t think any different of you.”

 _I don’t know if that’s why I didn’t tell you._ JJ paused, considering it further. _Actually, maybe it is. I wouldn’t want you to…think I’m…fragile._ The word came out after careful consideration. _But also, I just don’t like to talk about it. Only my therapist really knows the specifics._

Chase’s eyes widened a bit, but he didn’t say anything.

Jameson pressed a hand do his chest, taking deep, shaky breaths. _You both know that I grew up in the foster system._

“Yes,” Marvin confirmed, nodding.

 _And that…that was because of the crash that killed my parents. I was seven._ Jameson paused, looking down to take deep breaths again.

Chase scooted a bit closer. “You know you don’t _have_ to say anything—”

 _I do!_ Jameson protested, head shooting back up. _I do have to! Because he knows you!_

Marvin gasped softly. “JJ, who’s this ‘he’?” He asked quietly.

Jameson straightened, stiffening his resolve. _I’ve always told you, I didn’t get out of the system until I was sixteen._ He paused, watching Chase and Marvin nod in unison. _Well, didn’t it ever occur to you that you don’t age out of foster care until you’re_ eighteen?

Silence. Marvin’s jaw actually dropped. Chase covered his mouth. “I…didn’t think of that,” he said. “So you…you got adopted?”

 _Not exactly,_ Jameson said. For a moment, something flashed over his face, something sad and afraid. He almost looked like he wanted to stop. But he rushed out his next words, like ripping off a band-aid. _His name is A-N-E-I-R-I-N._

Chase blinked. “An-air-in?” he asked, trying out the letters Jameson had signed.

“Or An-eye-rin,” Marvin muttered. “Aneirin…it’s a Celtic name.”

 _Mum was Irish,_ Jameson explained.

“What does that have to do with—” Marvin asked.

Chase held up a hand, silencing him. His eyes were very, very wide, and he gestured for Jameson to continue.

 _The crash killed our parents, but I wasn’t an only child,_ Jameson said. _Aneirin is my older brother._

“Holy shit,” Marvin whispered. “A-and…he’s the reason you got out of foster care early?”

Jameson nodded, looking down. _He’s two years older than me. When I was sixteen, he was eighteen, and he aged out. Three months after his birthday, he showed up and petitioned to be my guardian. He said he had a place that was a suitable environment for a teenager, and he had a steady source of income. The courts agreed, and I went to live with him._

Chase’s eyes narrowed. “Something went wrong, didn’t it?” he asked. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have been panicking earlier.”

There was a long moment of silence. Jameson took a few more deep breaths. _I think he’s hurt your doctor friend Henrik._

“You…think?” Marvin asked. “No offense, but…why?”

 _Because of the time I went with Chase to visit Henrik,_ Jameson explained. _He…didn’t like to see me. He started shrieking, asking me not to hurt him…and he almost called me a name that started with “An.”_

“That’s what happened that day?” Marvin asked. “Ohhhh.” He paused. “But you don’t know he was about to say ‘Aneirin,’ do you?”

 _You’re right, he was probably about to say A-N-T-I,_ JJ said. _That’s the name he gave himself. Preferred to be called it for a long time._

“That’s…kind of a dumb name,” Chase said.

JJ laughed a bit, a little chuckle.

“But,” Marvin persisted. “Would your brother really hurt Schn—”

 _He absolutely would,_ Jameson interrupted.

Marvin just stared, at a loss for words.

Jameson sighed, and looked down. He made a strange sign, then, rather like the letter A being twisted apart, before continuing with his sentence. It was obviously a name sign. _Anti…is not a good person,_ he was saying. _I know he didn’t start out that way. But something must’ve happened after the system separated us._

“Wait wait wait,” Chase said. “The foster system…separates siblings?”

A bitter sort of smile crossed Jameson’s face. _Of course. Most families are only looking to foster or adopt one kid, after all. Aneirin and I were separated after a year. It was a hard sell to convince someone to foster a kid who couldn’t speak and a kid who had seizures, so they sent us to different homes._

“Dicks!” Chase exclaimed indignantly.

 _Yes, but that’s besides the point,_ Jameson said. _The point is that while Anti was my guardian, I saw…_ he paused, then continued, more slowly. _He had a lot of illegal activities under his belt. Mostly deals with local gangs in exchange for money—that was his main source of income, but sometimes he…he just…did things for reasons I still don’t understand._ He looked down, blinking furiously to clear his eyes of tears. _I’m afraid to say…that I helped with some of it._

Marvin bristled. “Well…it wasn’t your fault. I mean, if he’s your brother, and also your guardian, I-I can…I mean, in a situation like that, it’s…hard to have…a lot of choice in the matter.” He paused. “Am…am I saying this right?”

Jameson wiped away the tears that were now flowing. _You’re saying it perfectly, Marvin. Thank you._

“Jays, I…I’m sorry, but there’s something I still don’t understand,” Chase said, coughing awkwardly. “Why Schneep? Just…why did Aneirin—Anti, whoever…why did he target him?”

 _Who knows? Maybe he was just in the wrong situation at the wrong time,_ Jameson mused. _But whatever the reason, I think he’s now dragging you two into this as well._

“Why do you say that?” Marvin asked gently.

 _Anti…is very good at hiding,_ Jameson said. _He often pretends to be someone else. Remember that movie night? You two were fighting because Chase saw Marvin at the hospital, but Marvin wasn’t there?_

“Holy shit, I forgot about that!” Chase gasped. “Wait, was that—”

 _I can’t be sure, but…it does sound like something he would do, especially since he already looks a lot like our little group._ Jameson went silent for a moment. _Anti…he loves to have things—and people—under his control. Likes to look out for every little detail. He_ would _visit the hospital just to see why Chase cares about who’s there._

Chase shot to his feet. “We gotta tell the police.”

Jameson looked up at him. _Tell them what? That I think my brother, who I haven’t seen in three years, is actually the one who killed thirteen people, and not your friend whose fingerprints and DNA show up on multiple pieces of evidence?_ He shook his head. _We have no proof._

“Well we have to do something!” Chase insisted. “If this guy is the one who’s done it, and not Schneep, we gotta clear his name! Is there anything we can do?”

 _Look out for a man who looks like us but with a scarred face and two different color eyes?_ Jameson suggested. _That could work, but I told you, he’s really good at hiding. Scars can be concealed, and his green eye isn’t even real, it’s glass, so we don’t even have that going for us._

“Wait,” Marvin suddenly jumped in, eyes wide. “Does he have a green eye and a blue eye?”

 _Yes,_ JJ said. _…why?_

“Oh, uh, just making sure. Cause like, our eyes are blue so I wanted to be clear.” Marvin smiled. 

JJ gave him a suspicious glance, but ultimately shrugged it off.

“Look, can we go to the police like, ‘hey this guy might be stalking us?’” Chase asked. “Can we get a restraining order, at the very least?”

Jameson shook his head. _I don’t know. Maybe…maybe I’m not even right._ He fell silent. And once again, he started wiping at his eyes. But a few tears trickled down anyway. _I just—the thought that he might be—I don’t want—_

Marvin stood up and took the space on the couch that Chase had vacated. He reached out, offering a hand to JJ. Jameson looked at it for a bit, then took the hand. Marvin smiled, squeezing tight and swinging their clasped hands. “Look, I’m…I’m sorry about…well, all of that, I guess. That your brother’s terrible. It…it must’ve really sucked. But you know what? You’re with us now. And we’re gonna make sure that he doesn’t come back. Okay?”

Chase deflated a bit, realizing he’d maybe jumped too far ahead. He sighed deeply. “Sorry about getting so worked up, I just…I don’t want my friends to be hurt.” He walked back to Jameson, sitting on the floor next to the two-person couch. “And you’re one of my friends, Jays. So whatever you want to do, whatever will keep you safe, we’ll do.” He smiled.

Jameson was fully crying now, signing _thank you_ over and over again with his free hand. After a while, he pulled the other one away so he could sign fully. _I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,_ he said. _I don’t know why, all I know is that, with today being the day it is, I suppose it was all a little closer._

“The day it is?” Marvin asked. “Do you…want to talk about that?”

Jameson looked down at his lap again. _It’s October 10th…it’s Aneirin’s birthday. He would be…nice._

“Oh,” Marvin said softly.

“Well…it’s also three weeks until _your_ birthday,” Chase pointed out.

A small smile crossed JJ’s face. _That’s true._

“And this year, we’re gonna have a gigantic celebration. Whatever you want, bro, we’ll do it. Even if it’s something insane like skydiving.”

 _Don’t be ridiculous, Chase,_ Jameson signed, laughing.

Chase laughed as well. “Hey, you never know.”

Silence fell as the laughter died down. The window outside showed the orange sky of sunset. _Do you…want us to stay for a while, or do you want to be alone?_ Marvin asked, signing.

Jameson’s expression cracked. _Stay. Please._

 _Alright, then._ Marvin nodded. _Perhaps a distraction would be in order? Delivery pizza and a movie, maybe?  
_

 _Yes, that sounds like a good idea,_ JJ agreed. _I get to choose the movie._

“Of course you do,” Chase said, nodding firmly.

There wasn’t a lot of talking in the apartment that evening. After the movie, Marvin had to get home to check up on his pets, but he encouraged JJ to text him if he wanted to. Chase didn’t have anything to do, so he asked JJ if he wanted him to stay the night in the spare bedroom. Jameson had replied _yes please,_ so that’s exactly what Chase did.

Perhaps everything weighed a little heavier on all of their hearts. But the night passed peacefully, and they slept, unaware of what the morning would bring.


	11. Agendas and Arrangements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Dr. Laurens' return, Chase and the others now have some new information about where Jackie's been for the past ten months, and meanwhile, Jackie himself isn't doing so well.

Chase’s phone was ringing. Which might not have bothered him too much, if it hadn’t woken him up. He groaned and rolled over, wiggling his arm out of the blanket and reaching towards the nightstand. And his hand hit a lamp instead of his phone. Mildly surprised and confused, Chase pushed the blankets away from his head. The plain room was initially unfamiliar, and he wondered why he wasn’t in his bedroom. He briefly considered the possibility that he’d gotten drunk out on the town and gotten a hotel for the night—that had happened once before, but only once!—before he remembered that he’d stayed the night in the spare room at JJ’s apartment.

Sighing, he grabbed his phone, now able to see where it was on the nightstand. He didn’t recognize the number, so he put the phone back down and tried to go back to sleep. But he found that hard to do when the ringing immediately started up again the second it stopped. And then it did it again. And by that point, he resigned himself to not going back to sleep but was still reluctant to pick up a call from a strange number. He stretched and stood up, starting to leave the room before doubling back and grabbing his phone, stuffing it into his pocket despite the ringing.

Walking back into the main area, Chase was met with a delicious smell. He glanced into the kitchen area to see JJ sitting at the table with a plate in front of him He looked up immediately and waved. _Good morning, Chase!_ he said, looking considerably more cheery than he had been last night. He pointed at a basket sitting in the center of the table. _Muffin?_

“Uh…sure.” Chase walked on over, grabbing a chocolate chip muffin from the basket and sitting down. “You, uh…going to work?” He was initially about to ask how Jameson was doing, but wasn’t sure if it was okay to get right into it.

JJ smiled a bit. _Chase, would I wear a suit for anything else?_

“I dunno, you’re always well-dressed. You’re Mr. Long Sleeved Button-Up In The Middle Of Summer.” In fact, JJ’s current state of dress was making him well aware of the fact that he’d slept in his clothes last night.

 _Chase, please._ JJ made a tutting sound. _I would never go_ that _far. It gets really hot that time of year._

“Hmm, I’ve seen a couple of times when you’ve done that,” Chase said, laughing a bit. “Dude, it’s like, eight in the morning, when did you have time to get ready _and_ make muffins?”

 _Oh, I didn’t make these,_ JJ explained. _Emily did. My neighbor. She dropped them off earlier, apparently she made an extra batch._ His expression fell for a moment. _I…apparently she figured out something happened last night. I wasn’t aware she paid that much attention._ After a moment, he shook his head and smiled a bit. _Still, it was very kind of her._

“…yeah, it was.” Chase decided not to press the issue any further. He could tell JJ didn’t want to talk about last night just yet. “Maybe your walls are thin. Though I’d be surprised if they are, you’d think a place like this would have better walls.”

JJ raised an eyebrow. _Whatever do you mean, Chase?_ He signed innocently.

“Dude. You’re the one with a two-bed two-bath apartment in the middle of the fucking city, don’t come at me with that,” Chase said jokingly.

 _Ah, fair point._ JJ paused for a moment, long enough for the two of them to eat their muffins in silence. But after a while, JJ asked, _Chase, are you aware that your phone is ringing? And, well…has been? This whole time?_

Chase sighed deeply. “Yeah.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “It’s the same number, I don’t know who the fuck it is or why they’re so insistent.”

 _Maybe it’s important?_ JJ suggested. _I mean, if they’ve been ringing you for five minutes now._

“Maybe…maybe I know them but didn’t put them in my contacts,” Chase reasoned. After a moment’s hesitation, he grumbled, “If this is a scam I’m gonna be so pissed,” and accepted the call, pressing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

A strange voice asked, “Is this Mr. Chase Brody?”

“Uh, who is this?” Chase asked.

“My name is Detective Nix. Are you Mr. Chase Brody?”

“Um…” Chase’s heart rate suddenly quickened. “Yeah, I mean, speaking. What’s this about?”

“Well, according to our records, you’re the one who reported a Jackie Donovan as missing, about ten months ago? Is that correct?”

If Chase’s heart rate sped up before, it skyrocketed now. He sat up straight. “Um, y-yeah, that’s, uh…that’s me. Why? Has something happened?”

“We now have a lead, and I’d like you to come down to the police on Tenley so we can discuss this in person.”

“Shit—I-I mean, yeah, I’ll be right there.” Chase stood up, pushing back his chair, and began looking around for his jacket. JJ watched him, eyes wide.

“Excellent. I’ll meet you there.” The call ended.

As soon as Chase put the phone down, JJ started asking questions. _What was that about? Who was that?_

“Some detective guy,” Chase said absentmindedly. He spotted his jacket on the sofa back in the living room area, and rushed over to grab it, explaining as he put it on. “He asked me if I was the guy who reported Jackie missing, and I said yes, and he said they had a lead and I needed to go down to discuss it in person.” He zipped up the jacket, now looking around for his cap as he ran his fingers through his hair.

JJ’s eyes widened further. _Really?! They might know what happened to him?_

“I mean, maybe, he didn’t say much.” Chase was now spinning in place, scanning the apartment for his cap. “Shit, where is it?”

Catching on, JJ stood up and walked over to the spare bedroom, disappearing inside briefly and coming out again with Chase’s cap. He tossed it to him, and Chase fumbled before catching it.

“Thanks,” he breathed, pulling it onto his head.

 _No problem,_ JJ said. _Do you…do you think Jackie’s alright?_

Chase hesitated, then nodded. “I mean…yeah, Jackie’s a tough cookie. He’s probably…alive.” In truth, that was all he felt confident saying. He couldn’t quite make it to ‘alright,’ thinking of all the things that could’ve happened to him. “In any case, I gotta go so they can tell me.”

 _Right, of course,_ JJ nodded. _I’d ask to come with, but you know. Work._

“Yeah, it sucks. I’ll fill you and Marvin in, though.” Now as ready as he could be on such short notice, Chase headed towards the door, opening it. He turned back to look at JJ. “I’ll see you later.”

 _See you,_ JJ signed.

Chase headed out, closing the door behind him and quickly heading towards the elevator. He had to get there quickly. The station on Tenley Street was some ways away, maybe he should drive a little faster than usual? No, that probably wasn’t a good idea. Still, he was already looking up the quickest route on his phone. Though he knew there was no real rush to hear this news, he just…had to hear it as soon as possible. He couldn’t bear the wait.

* * *

The Tenley Street police station was pretty small—actually, Chase was still getting used to the fact that a lot of the stations in this country were small and kind of casual-looking. But he could tell this one was weirdly small, probably no more than a place for detectives and officers to do paperwork. He entered the building and found himself in a small waiting-room-type area, with a desk and chairs to sit in, a short hallway leading into the main area of the station. Chase immediately walked up to the officer sitting at the desk and explained the situation, after which the officer told him to wait and turned to leave.

Chase exhaled slowly, backing up. So guess he’d just hang out here. With nothing to do—

“Wait. Chase?”

At the sound of his name, Chase jumped and looked behind him at the voice who’d said it. There was a woman sitting in one of the nearby chairs. Her left arm was in a sling, and she looked rather ragged, but she did look a bit familiar…Chase visibly started as he finally recognized her. “Dr. Laurens?”

Laurens grinned wide, and waved. “It _is_ you! Shit, hi.” She laughed loudly, sounding more relieved than happy.

“Yeah, shit, hi.” Chase hurried on over. “What are you—where have you—what happened to your arm?!”

“It’s…a long story,” Laurens said, suddenly more serious. “What’re you doing here?”

“I, uh, got a call from this detective guy,” Chase said, glancing back at the rest of the room and down the hall to the main area. “He said there was a lead in Jackie’s disappearance, and I guess they wanted to tell me, since I reported it, and there’s not many other people they could tell.” Chase paused. Laurens’s expression had suddenly fallen, turning sad, almost…grieving? “You okay?”

Laurens shook her head. “Yeah, I’m fine, but…” She looked up at Chase. “I think _I’m_ the lead they called you about.”

Chase stared at her, processing this for a moment. “What?”

“That’s part of the long story I mentioned,” Laurens said. She seemed hesitant to say more.

“Um…okay.” Chase took a seat next to her. “You don’t _have_ to tell me about it.”

“Well, Jackie’s your friend, you should know,” Laurens said firmly. She glanced away. “But it looks like the story’ll have to wait a bit.”

Chase followed her gaze. A man in a suit had appeared, walking down the short hall towards the waiting area. His eyes landed on the two of them, and he hurried over. “You must be Mr. Brody,” the man said coolly. “I’m Detective Hooper. I believe my partner, Nix, contacted you this morning?”

“Uh, yeah.” Chase nodded.

“Excellent. And you’ve met Ms. Laurens?”

“ _Doctor_ Laurens,” Laurens corrected.

“Yes, yes.” Hooper nodded. “Well, you and Ms. Laurens”—Laurens bristled—“can come with me and we’ll get started. Nix will be with us in a moment.”

“Um…” Chase shifted in his chair, but didn’t get up. “Well, I can’t go with Ms. Laurens, ‘cause there isn’t a Ms. Laurens here. I can come with you and Dr. Laurens, is that alright?”

Hooper sighed impatiently. “Yes, you and _Dr._ Laurens can follow me. Please.”

Laurens shot Chase a grin, which he returned, and the two of them stood up, following Hooper into the main area of the station—which appeared to be mostly made of desk space, small designated areas with two desks each. Hooper led them past a few of these spaces to one specific one. He took a seat at one of the desks, and pointed the two of them to chairs nearby.

“So…what’s this about?” Chase asked, sitting down first.

“Well, at about five thirty yesterday, this young lady came into the station and demanded that we open up one of our unsolved cases,” Hooper said.

“I’m older than you,” Laurens said, decidedly not sitting down.

Hooper continued like he hadn’t heard her. “Of course, this case was one of mine—”

“Oh, one of yours?” Without much warning, another man appeared, causing Hooper to jump. This new man was older, with gray in his hair, and dressed more casually, but the expression on his face was certainly intimidating. “I’m under the impression that Donovan’s case was _mine,_ well before you became my partner. In fact, I seem to recall you insisting it clearly wasn’t important, as it was unlikely anything new would happen at this point.”

Hooper paled visibly. “Sorry, Nix.”

“Hmm. Apology accepted. Don’t do it again.” The older man looked at Laurens and Chase, and he suddenly relaxed visibly, smiling warmly at the pair. “Mr. Brody, I presume. Detective Nix. We spoke on the phone.” He held out his hand.

“Yeah, I remember.” Chase shook the offered hand. “So what’s going on?”

“Well…” Nix sat down at the other desk, right next to Hooper’s. He glanced over at Laurens, and his face softened. “Please sit down, doctor. You shouldn’t even be out of the hospital, it would be terrible if you injured yourself further.”

“My legs are fine,” Laurens said, but sat down anyway. “And I…I wanted to be here to tell Chase in person.”

“Yes, you two know each other?” Nix asked.

“A little,” Chase said. “Laurens is my friend’s doctor—or, uh, I don’t know if it’s still that way, but we’ve talked. Can, uh…someone tell me what’s going on? What’s happened?” He hated to keep pushing the point, but he didn’t think he could take it any longer.

Nix looked over at Laurens. “Well, I think it would be best if Dr. Laurens told you herself.”

Laurens nodded. She looked down, staying quiet for a moment.

Hooper suddenly spoke up again “We have her recorded testimony here if—”

“Actually, I think it would be best if I told him myself, thanks,” Laurens interrupted. She turned to face Chase. “I, uh. About a month and a half ago, I…uh.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “A man who looked like you—was disguised as you—approached me and attacked. I got knocked out, and when I woke up, I was…with Jackie.”

“You were what?!” Chase gaped. “What? How?”

“Well, the man who attacked me.” Laurens was remaining mostly calm as she spoke, though Chase noticed the way her free hand tapped a wild pattern on the arm of the chair. “It…turns out that he’d kidnapped Jackie. And also Schneep. And then…” She cleared her throat. “…me.”

“Holy shit…” Chase breathed. His mind was racing, but it seemed to keep circling one thing: the conversation he and Marvin had with Jameson the previous night. “Who was this guy? Is Jackie okay? What did he want?”

“Well, Jackie called him Anti,” Laurens explained.

Chase’s heart stopped. It _was_ him. Jameson was right. This Anti, Jameson’s own brother, had been the reason Schneep had disappeared for nine months. What were the odds of that? But…if Anti was really behind Schneep’s disappearance, and now, it was revealed, Jackie’s as well…could he also be behind more? Chase remembered a couple of times, when he’d felt he was being watched, and seen a bystander nearby. He’d initially dismissed it as paranoia, since the bystanders didn’t really seem to be looking at him, but what if…? And the time he’d seen Marvin at the hospital, and Marvin had later denied it. What if Jameson was right, and that was really someone else, someone who was proven to be hostile to his friends? The thought made him shiver.

He listened intently as Laurens laid out the bare bones of what had happened to her—being kept in a basement somewhere with Jackie, Anti interrogating her for information about Schneep, and eventually escaping at the cost of dislocating her wrist. After she was done, he leaned back in his chair. “Holy fuck…” he whispered. Even though Laurens hadn’t given a lot of details, he could tell the experience must’ve been…terrifying.

“That’s not all,” Hooper said. “Ms.—Dr. Laurens showed up here after getting away, saying she had a lead on the Donovan case. Naturally, we were alerted, this being our case. As soon as she told us that we had to get to a certain address as quickly as possible, we mobilized.”

“Yes, we had a team check out this place.” Nix threw a manila folder onto his desk. “860 Underwood Drive, a rather…hmm…high-risk part of the city.” He looked back and forth between Laurens and Chase, landing on Chase. “I called you here today because I thought you should know that, while there was evidence of someone having lived there, and more importantly, evidence of someone else having been _held_ there…the house was empty.”

Chase stared at him. He…actually felt a little breathless. Like he’d been told to walk into a room for a happy surprise, but instead got punched in the stomach. “…what?” he croaked.

Laurens didn’t look much better. She’d gone pale, and her tapping hand suddenly froze. “Are…are you sure?” she asked. “Did you find the basement?”

“Oh yes, we did.” Nix opened the folder, looking down at something inside. “Along with a stash of illegal drugs, stolen hospital equipment, a closet full of things that looked like costume materials, multiple combat-level knives and one handgun, and honestly more that we don’t have time to list.” He snapped the folder shut. “But nobody was there.”

Laurens paled further. “He must’ve left immediately…”

Chase covered his mouth, at a loss for words. 

Nix sighed, looking at the other two sympathetically. “There was also no evidence of recent…injury. If he hasn’t harmed Jackie yet, it’s unlikely he will now.”

“He’s definitely harmed him,” Laurens mumbled. “But…I understand.” Nevertheless, Nix’s assurances failed to calm her.

Chase lowered his hand, finally saying something. “You…you have to find him.”

Hooper stared at him. “Understand that if he’s evaded us for this long, it’s unlikely—”

“Yes, thank you, Hooper,” Nix snapped. “Remember that we now know this Anti _exists,_ which changes a lot.” Hooper shut his mouth. Nix looked back at Laurens and Chase. “I understand you’re both also involved in the Schneeplestein case?” When the two of them nodded silently, he continued, “We’ll have to coordinate with the detectives on that case, but I’m sure you can see this information changes everything for that. Dr. Laurens, they may ask to speak to you in addition to your testimony.”

“That’s fine,” Laurens said. “Is…is there anything else?”

Nix shook his head. “If we need anything else, or want to let either of you know about anything, we’ll contact you.” He pulled a pad of paper out of a drawer, then took a pen from a cup on his desk and wrote down something. “This is my number, feel free to add it to your contacts.” He tore the paper out of the pad, then tore it in half and handed each piece to either of them.

“Well, I mean, I can always look for the number that calls me five hundred times in a row,” Chase muttered, thinking it was too low for Nix to pick up.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that many times,” Nix said, smiling a bit.

Chase jumped, then hurriedly stood up. “Well, uh. We’ll be seeing you.”

Laurens stood as well. “Thanks for your help,” she said, looking at Nix and not Hooper.

“You’re welcome,” Nix said. As the two of them started to leave, he called, “And don’t hesitate to ring me if you remember anything that could help!”

Laurens and Chase were silent as they walked out, up until they left the station all together, the double doors swinging behind them. Then Laurens spoke up. “Hey, uh…would you mind if…you drove me home? I took the bus here.”

“Didn’t that Nix guy say you should be in the hospital?” Chase asked.

“I—well, uh…” Laurens stammered. “I…really don’t think—”

“I know you’re like, a mind doctor and not a body doct—that came out wrong, I mean, a medical doctor.” Chase laughed nervously. “But shouldn’t you know all about how you should stay in the hospital after undergoing something, uh…major?”

Laurens slumped. “You’re right…” she sighed. “I guess I could be missing something that the doctors aren’t. I, uh…would you mind if you drove me to the hospital?”

“Sure, which one?” Chase asked, starting to pull out his keys.

“Mariposa. You know that one?”

“Yeah, no problem. It’s on my way home, anyway.”

The two of them climbed on the car. Chase pulled out of the parking lot, and once they were on the way, he asked, “So…what’s next for you? After…everything?”

“Well, I, uh…” Laurens winced a bit. “I know what I _should_ do, but I want to go back to Silver Hills as soon as possible. Now that I…understand, more, what Schneep’s going through, I think I can help him better.”

“Huh. That’s…wow, that’s really nice of you.” Chase paused, then asked, “But, uh, should you really be going back to work after all this? I mean, it’s gotta be…pretty upsetting.”

Laurens looked out the window silently for a while. “Yeah, I know what I _should_ do is take a while to readjust to everything. But I…I can’t just leave someone like that. A-and maybe I can start taking on other patients, too—”

“Uh, maybe slow down a bit, there,” Chase suggested tentatively. He fell silent for a moment, keeping his eyes on the road. “Y’know, I haven’t tried it in a while, and you probably know all about it, being a psychologist—”

“Psychiatrist. It’s different, I can prescribe medicine.”

“—but I hear, uh, therapy would be really good after something like this.”

Laurens shifted awkwardly. “Yeah, I know. But that would be a little…weird, considering I know a lot of the therapists in the city, since they were my colleagues for a bit.”

“For a bit?”

“Yeah, I worked at Silver Hills for a while, then quit to become a private therapist, then came back to Silver just before Schneep arrived.” Laurens paused. “Besides, like I said, I should probably…readjust to things for a while. And I really do want to check in on Schneep, because…” She glanced back at Chase. “Well, I can’t imagine things have been great for him recently. Dr. Newson probably took over after I…was gone, and…she _hates_ him.”

“Yeah, me and the others figured that out,” Chase frowned. “There’s got to be something we can do about that.”

Laurens nodded. “We can come up with something, I’m sure.”

The two of them were quiet the rest of the way to the hospital.

* * *

Neither of them had any way of knowing that, later that day, Marvin was working on the next step of his plan to “do something about” Newson.

Luckily, he’d planned this bit out a bit more than the “break into a mental hospital” bit, doing some research and looking up an address for a place he thought could help him. He took the bus there shortly after lunch, carrying his supplies in his bag. Before he walked in, he took a moment to brace himself. His last experience with a place like this hadn’t…ended well. But he was determined to go through with this. So he straightened his posture, and walked inside.

A small, electric bell sounded out the opening of the door. Marvin immediately walked up to what looked like a reception area, with a desk hidden behind a window. Once the clerk behind the window looked up, he said, “Hi, I need to see a civil lawyer.”

The clerk nodded. “One moment, please.” She typed something out on her computer. “Are you the defending party or the prosecuting party?”

“Uh. Prosecuting, I believe.” That was the party that sued people, right?

“Name?” After Marvin gave her his name, the clerk finished typing out whatever she was doing. “Wait here please.” She pointed to the hard, uncomfortable-looking chairs along the edge of the room. Marvin sighed quietly, and went to sit down, taking out his phone to wait.

After a few minutes, there was a voice. “Mr. Maher?”

Marvin looked up to see a woman in a pantsuit standing in front of him. “I’m Aja Bakshi,” she said, holding out a hand. “I understand you have a civil case you need help with?”

Marvin stood up, not taking her hand. “Yeah, that’s right. Well, uh…it’s a little bit complicated, maybe we should go somewhere we can talk for a while?”

Bakshi nodded, not looking too perturbed about the declined handshake. “Of course. We can talk in my office, follow me.”

The two of them had to go up two flights of stairs to reach Bakshi’s office, but once there, Marvin found it comfortable enough. There were a lot of knickknacks on various surfaces and photos on the desk, not to mention the office was big enough to include a small sitting area instead of just a single chair for guests. Marvin immediately sat down in one of the comfier-looking chairs, while Bakshi sat at her desk nearby. “Okay, so, this is a long story,” Marvin started, digging into his bag. “But basically, my friend’s in an institution and the doctor assigned to him hates him, and she actively tries to make things worse. I’d like to sue her for malpractice.”

Bakshi pursed her lips, considering this. “Do you have any relation to this man, or are you just friends?”

“Well, we’re just friends, though a lot of people do think we’re related. ‘Cause we look alike.” Marvin took out a folded piece of paper, unfolding it and setting it down on the desk. “But I took a whole bunch of notes about things that were weird and really suspicious about her.” He also took out a small folder, and set it down as well. “Also I got a copy of the medication she put him on. I did some research, and I’m ninety percent sure that this isn’t going to work for him.”

“How’d you get that?” Bakshi asked, surprised. “Those shouldn’t be accessible to people without permission, according to county laws.”

“Well…” On one hand, Marvin was delighted that Bakshi seemed to have the appropriate knowledge for this particular case. On the other, this part was about to be really awkward. “I may have…taken them.”

Bakshi stared at him, then raised an eyebrow. “What.”

“Look, I’m willing to take whatever punishment I get for doing that,” Marvin said plainly. “But I know we needed this information.” In truth, if he was going to get arrested for something, this was probably the best thing to get arrested for, given all the other things he’d done.

Bakshi considered this, folding her arms. “If this is brought up in the case, we could argue you had justifiable reason for it,” she said after a while. “Provided you had suspicions before you took the medication records.”

“Oh believe me, I did.” Marvin nodded. “I dated my notes on the paper. And this…” He pulled out another piece of paper. “Are my suspicions _after_ getting into the place and seeing what was up.”

“Okay, that’s trespassing. We’ll also have to argue justifiable reason for that.” Bakshi picked up the folder to look at the records inside. Marvin watched in silence as she read over them, then began typing stuff into her computer. This took a while, so Marvin reached inside his bag one more time and grabbed a keychain with a couple different attachments, selecting one that imitated bubble wrap and popping it while he waited. After a while, Bakshi leaned back in her seat and whistled. “The main problem in these records is that the escalation is too quick. And there’s no need for the sedative dose to be that high, especially if your friend doesn’t have a history that requires it.”

Marvin laughed nervously. “Well, I mean…apparently there was this whole big case, I was in Ireland at the time so I had no idea about it, but when I came back it turns out…a-anyway, my friend is Henrik von Schneeplestein, apparently that’s a known name in town now.”

“Oh _fuck._ ” Bakshi hissed. “That does complicate things. But still, I would say this is unreasonable, even with that in mind, and I’m sure many others would agree.” She looked over the records again. “Do you have anything else planned for today? Because putting together this case could take a while.”

“Yeah, I know.” Luckily, Marvin had planned for this. “I don’t have anything else to do until dinnertime.”

At that very moment, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Frowning, he took it out to look at the caller ID. Chase? “Um…excuse me for a moment,” he said, then answered the call. “Hey, what’s up? I’m kind of in the middle of a thing here.” He paused, listening to Chase talk on the other line. Then his eyes widened. “Wait, _what?!_ ”

The phone call lasted roughly five minutes, during which Bakshi was content to wait and start going through the paperwork of putting a case together. Marvin mostly listened, occasionally jumping in with a “Really?” or a “Holy shit.” Eventually, Marvin glanced back over at Bakshi and realized this might be a little rude. “Chase, this is great, wonderful, but I’m really busy right now. I have to go.” A pause. “Yeah, I’ll text you later. Yeah. Okay, bye.” He hung up, and looked over at Bakshi again. “Sooo turns out Sch—my friend, uh. Might actually be innocent, in some way.”

Bakshi blinked, at a loss for words with the rapid change of events. “That… changes things,” she said after a while.

“Yeah, my friend just told me they just found out a huge thing,” Marvin nodded. “So, uh. Guess we need to adjust for that?”

“Possibly,” Bakshi agreed. “It’s a good thing we haven’t gotten far.” She leaned forward. “Shall we start, then?”

“Might as well.” Marvin nodded. Hopefully by doing this, they could get Newson away from Schneep, and maybe away from Silver Hills altogether.

* * *

This was…new.

He wasn’t sure if “new” was a good thing.

In truth, he felt a little…foggy. It wasn’t an _unfamiliar_ sensation, which sucked, but it was one he hadn’t felt in a while. And it meant that it took him a moment to realize he actually _did_ recognize this new place, if only vaguely.

When Jackie opened his eyes, he noticed he was lying on a sofa, underneath a blanket. Not too alarming, in and of itself. What was more alarming was that he couldn’t move. Once that thought had managed to work its way through the soup in his head, panic slowly started to set in. Why couldn’t he move? Why couldn’t he do anything more than breathing and blinking?

He was stuck lying on his side, staring at the opposite wall. There was a flatscreen TV mounted on it, a small table under it with two game consoles. The wall was papered with a pattern of pale green and yellow stripes, spots of it showing sign of water damage. Seeing that, he remembered he’d been here before.

And then he heard someone talking. It sounded like it probably came from another room, but the person was loud enough, and the walls thin enough, that Jackie could make out the voice almost perfectly.

“I don’t care, and if you think I do, you’re making a _big_ mistake,” the voice snapped. The man speaking had a trace of an Irish accent. He paused for a moment. “I don’t fucking know, find it out!” Another pause. “Yeah, go check, go do that. But don’t you dare hang up.”

Jackie shivered a bit, and was immediately annoyed that he could do that, but not move his head at all. Of course, the annoyance was overwhelmed by the sudden, intense jolt of fear he’d felt hearing that voice. Of course Anti would be here, why wouldn’t he be? It was his apartment. Or at least, that’s what Jackie assumed.

He’d been here once before, though he couldn’t remember most of it. It was back in May. He hadn’t seen Schneep in a while, and that worried him. It always did. The fear that one day Anti would get tired of one or both of them was an ever-present weight. It didn’t help that Anti would take Schneep away seemingly at random, for as long as a day to two weeks. Always, always, Jackie wondered if something would happen. Then Anti would bring Schneep back. Always, always in worse condition than when he’d left. Not physical condition, usually. But Jackie had picked up early on that Anti liked to mess with both of them. He could handle it most of the time, but Anti was a lot harder on Schneep, which would only worsen his condition. Jackie remembered nights where neither of them went to sleep, because Schneep couldn’t remember where he was or who was with him, and Jackie would quietly, calmly, explain it to him every time, even when Schneep would lash out.

That was the routine for six months, and then one day, Anti had taken Schneep out, and returned without him. Jackie remembered the absolute terror, remembered thinking, “this is it, I’m done for.” Then Anti had knocked him out, and when Jackie woke up, he was in this same apartment. Once again, he didn’t recall much of it, but he picked up that Schneep had somehow slipped away on one of Anti’s “errands” that he sometimes took him on. Apparently the police had been close, and Anti had panicked and left Schneep there. And now, it seemed, the situation was similar. Anti took Rya Laurens, and she’d gotten away. So Anti had packed everything up and fled to this place.

“What do you mean?!”

Jackie would’ve flinched if he’d been able to. Apparently Anti’s conversation on the phone wasn’t going so well.

“No, you _have_ to have some somewhere, that’s your whole thing! That’s what you do! Do you not have extra stock, you son of a badger’s ass?! I’d think you would be smart enough to keep that on hand, guess I was wrong!” A pause. “Well of _course_ I did, but the coppers found the house, so everything in there’s gone, including all of that!” Small pause. “Well it’s a good thing you don’t mark the packaging, then, isn’t it? Look, what _do_ you have?”

Anti’s voice fell silent again for a long while. Then, Jackie heard a door open somewhere nearby. He tried to turn to look in its direction, but was still unable to. A light overhead flicked on, lighting up the room previously illuminated only by sunlight that was probably coming from a window somewhere.

“Yeah, that’s all great for you, but not for me,” Anti said. His voice was a lot clearer now. Jackie pictured him hovering in a doorway leading to the room. “I have a fucking PI in my apartment and I need to _do_ something about that!”

Fuck. Jackie realized Anti was talking about _him._

“No, really?” Anti drawled sarcastically. “I hadn’t thought of that! Wow, you’re such a genius, Natalie, and here I was collecting knives ‘cause they looked cool.” Small pause. “I’ll call you whatever I like, it’s your fault for putting your real name out there.” Another pause. “The point is, if that was an option, I would’ve done that already!” Pause. “That’s not your fucking business.” Long pause. “Alright fine, I’ll check in then, but if you don’t have any by then I swear to god I’ll—” He cut himself off, presumably because the other person started talking again. “Of _course_ I will. I’ll call you in a week, good _bye_.”

The apartment fell silent. Jackie’s eyes strained to see anything beyond the small spot he was facing, to no avail. Soon, he heard footsteps. Heading away. But the room light didn’t turn off, so he’d probably be back.

The footsteps continued in the other room. Something squeaked, like rusty hinges. Then it slammed shut. Jackie felt his heart leap into his throat. The squeaking-slamming repeated. There was a long pause in the footsteps before there were more. Then a few beeping sounds, followed by a humming, and Jackie relaxed a bit as he realized it was a microwave.

Of course, that ended within two minutes, and soon the footsteps started again. Now heading towards him. And at that moment, Jackie was almost glad he couldn’t move, because he was sure that if he could, he would’ve done something stupid like jump up and run.

The footsteps went around the sofa, and somewhere out of his sight Jackie heard the sound of something being set down on a wooden table. A moment of silence. And then Anti appeared.

For a moment, the resemblance to the rest of his friends threw Jackie off. But that only lasted a moment, as the right half of Anti’s face was covered in scars. Some straight, some jagged, some rather like burns. All were fairly faded, but still very noticeable. There was one across Anti’s throat, too, that looked a bit different than the others, possibly having happened at a different time. Anti’s left eye was natural blue, but his right was unnaturally bright green. Besides all this, Anti wore a dark green jacket and a tarnished silver watch on a rusted chain around his neck. He seemed to always have those two things close by, if not actually on him.

“So.” Anti leaned over, staring at Jackie, noticing the way his eyes would lock on him, then dart away before coming back. “Guess I’ll be stuck with you for a bit longer.”

Jackie’s heart sped up further. What did that mean?

Anti frowned. He reached forward, grabbing Jackie’s head with both hands. “How long will this last…?” he muttered, prying open one of Jackie’s eyelids with his fingers. After a while, he let go, letting Jackie’s head fall back. Without another word, he walked out of Jackie’s field of view. Jackie heard a faint sound like someone was hitting a pillow, then the sound of silverware scraping along ceramic. Apparently Anti had decided to sit down nearby and eat, maybe while he waited for whatever was paralyzing Jackie to wear off.

Jackie then realized he was breathing a bit quickly, and he fought to get it under control. Okay. So. He was stuck in a (probably small) apartment with a man who’d killed at least thirteen people, directly and indirectly. He had no idea what said man was planning for him, but he knew it probably wasn’t good.

But for a positive, at least Rya had gotten away. And alerted the police, by the sound of Anti’s phone conversation. That was good. Now people knew the real situation going on here, and so it was more likely that someone would figure out where he was and come get him.

A small part of Jackie’s mind pointed out that “more likely” didn’t mean it was likely to happen at all, but he quickly squashed that. This was significantly more hope than he’d had in a while, and he wanted to hold onto it.

Something had to happen. It _had_ to. Jackie wasn’t sure he could bear the alternative.


	12. Flashbacks and Forewarnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon hearing Anti *is* the culprit behind everything, JJ remembers an event in his past. Meanwhile, Dr. Laurens has a mess to sort out with Dr. Newson.

Midafternoon sunlight was streaming through the window. Jameson leaned over to look out the window, glancing downward at the street a few stories below. Then he took his watch out of his pocket and checked the time. Almost four o’clock already? It was almost time to leave. JJ began tidying up, starting the process of going home and getting things ready for the next person to man the desk.

“Hmm? Oh, are you leaving, Mr. Jackson?” Claire, the intern, noticed his cleaning up. 

JJ nodded. He paused for a moment, grabbing his notebook and pen from the surface of the desk nearby. _Do you know who’s on the next shift?_

Claire paused for a moment to read the question; though she was trying to learn BSL, she wasn’t able to hold a conversation yet. “Uhh…I think it’s Mr. Haddock,” she said.

That was what he suspected. _Do you think you can handle things until he arrives?_ JJ asked. He didn’t want to put too much pressure on Claire—she was only sixteen, after all.

“Yeah, no problem,” she said. “Uhh…I just have to monitor the phone, right?”

JJ nodded again. Accepting phone calls was the highest priority part of the job, and also the only thing he couldn’t do. Sending emails, making sure things were filed correctly, getting things from the supply room, all that was alright. But not the phone, for obvious reasons. Luckily, answering phone calls usually fell to the interns. _Don’t be afraid to ask Mr. Patterson for help. It should only be ten minutes or so until Timothy arrives, but just to be sure._

“Thanks, Mr. Jackson. Oh! Uh, wait.” Claire made a simple gesture. _Thank you._

JJ smiled encouragingly. _You’re picking that up quick!_

“Really?” Claire brightened up. “Thanks!” She repeated the sign.

JJ stood up, gathering his stuff. _I’ll see you tomorrow,_ he signed, edging around the desk and heading towards the elevator.

“See you.”

Now heading on his way down, Jameson checked his bag, pulling out his phone. Huh…it seemed he had quite a few texts from Chase. He scrolled through the notifications, ending up at the first one, which read: **Hey J, remember that thing the detectives called me about ths morning? About Jackie?** The second one read: **Did you get my last text?** The third one read: **JJ i really have to talk to you about this. Should i call Marv first?** And so on with increasing urgency.

Reading through the messages, Jameson could feel his pulse rising, tense. He’d almost forgotten about the events of that morning. A long day at work was bound to do that. The question had always sort of been lingering in his mind, though. They’d found some sort of break in Jackie’s case. That had to be a good thing, right? A pessimistic part of him pointed out that a “break in the case” didn’t always mean they’d found the missing person. Sometimes it meant they’d found the missing person’s body—

Jameson stepped out of the elevator, forcibly leaving that thought behind. It wasn’t the case this time. It couldn’t be. Even though he hadn’t known Jackie as long as Chase or Marvin had, he still knew him. And he knew he wasn’t the type to go down easily. Quickly, he opened up his texts and started replying to Chase. **Sorry I didn’t see any of this, I was at work :( Just got off the lift now. What happened?**

Chase didn’t respond for a minute or so, long enough for JJ to walk out of the building and into the crisp October air. But his reply came soon. **Oh I forgot about that! Im so sorry.**

**No no, it’s not your fault. But do tell what happened. What did the detectives say?**

The little typing bubble stayed up for a long time. JJ had arrived at the close-by bus stop by the time Chase finally said what he was planning. **Uh…actually, can i call you about this? I know you cant answer, and you can say no, i just think itll be easier to say instead of type.**

That…wasn’t a good sign. **Sure?** Jameson typed slowly. **I can whistle or something if you need a response.**

Immediately, his phone started ringing. JJ almost instinctively declined the call, but caught himself just in time and picked it up. Chase’s voice came through easily from the other side. “JJ? You there, bro?” JJ whistled a yes. “Okay good. Okay. Uhh…this is weird, not being able to see you. But anyway. The thing this morning. The good news is that Schneep’s first doctor showed up! So now he’s gonna have one that doesn’t hate him.” Chase laughed, a bit nervously. “But, uh, I dunno if she’ll go back right away. Because, uh…that’s the bad news. She disappeared because she got kidnapped. By the same person who kidnapped Jackie. And kidnapped Schneep before that. And…” Chase sighed. “You were right. The person who did that is this Anti.” He paused. “Are…are you still there?”

Jameson took a moment to react. And when he did, he hung up. So…it was him.

God, what were the odds? What were the goddamn odds that the two of them would end up in the same place once again?! True, this city wasn’t too far away from the town they lived in before. But he’d always thought Aneirin was the type to stay in a town like that.

Well, at least he didn’t know Jameson was here…

* * *

Jameson set down his book, checking the clock. It was a little past eight at night. Naturally, his eyes drifted over to the calendar afterwards. It was a month behind, still reading June 2007.

The front door slammed open downstairs. JJ jumped, then slid a bookmark into the pages of his novel and stood up, heading out the door and down the stairs.

“Hey, Jamie.” Aneirin smiled at him as he came downstairs. “Picked up dinner real quick. Sorry for being late.” He set a bag of McDonald’s down on the nearby coffee table and sighed, reaching upward to make sure his eye-patch was in place.

 _It’s fine,_ JJ signed. _You’ve been busy lately._

“Yeah, uh…speaking of which.” Aneirin cleared his throat. “I have to go out again later tonight.”

JJ slumped a bit. _You sure?_

“Yeah…work shit, you know how it is.” Aneirin shook his head. “But hey, I mean, without my work, we wouldn’t have a house, so I’ll take it.”

That was true. Though…Jameson still wasn’t sure what exactly Aneirin _did_ for work. It had odd hours, and Aneirin was hesitant to talk about it, in a way that JJ had initially shrugged off, but was now starting to seem a bit odd. He’d been living with him for a year now, wasn’t it weird that he didn’t know what his brother did? _Alright,_ JJ signed hesitantly. _But you owe me._

Aneirin smiled. “I’ll buy you another book.”

_I have a lot of books, Aneirin. I haven’t even read them all._

“Something else, then. Whatever you want. Within reason, of course.” Chuckling, Aneirin headed through the doorway into the kitchen. Inside, JJ heard the sound of the coffeemaker—a new addition—starting up.

Frowning, Jameson poked his head into the kitchen doorway. He knocked on the wood, but Aneirin didsn’t turn around, focused on the coffeemaker. “Aan…?” JJ called.

“Hmm?” Aneirin looked over at him.

_You aren’t supposed to be holding hot things._

“Jesus christ, I’m not a baby, Jamie.”

 _Just…remember what happened last time?_ Jameson pointed out at him. _You burned yourself. I’m just worried._

“Yes, but now I know what not to do.” Aneirin shrugged, and turned around. “Besides, the mug will stay on the counter most of the time. So no need to overreact.”

JJ frowned, but left anyway, heading back upstairs to grab his book. He’d move downstairs to finish it, just in case Aneirin ended up needing help.

A couple hours passed. If the past was any indicator, Aneirin would be leaving around this time. JJ made a big show of yawning, and glancing over to the couch where Aneirin was sitting, eyes fixed to the TV but not really paying any attention to the show that was on. Standing up and grabbing his book, JJ signed, _I think I’ll go to bed now._

Aneirin responded, “Alright.” without looking away from the screen. _Go to bed_ was one of the sign phrases he could understand even out of the corner of his eyes.

JJ headed up the stairs, slowing down once he reached the second story. He walked over to his room, opening the door and closing it without going inside, instead just waiting in the hall. Immediately, he heard the television downstairs turn off. Footsteps crossed the living room and headed outside. The front door opened and shut. Jameson put his book on the floor next to his room and carefully crept down the stairs, sticking near the walls to avoid the creaks. He made a slight detour to grab his cell phone from the kitchen drawer where it was kept. Then once back in the living room, he crouched close to the ground and crawled over to the front window, peeking outside.

In the driveway, Aneirin was checking something in the trunk of his car. Well, technically, Aneirin always called it “our car,” but he was the only one who drove it. JJ didn’t know how to drive yet. And even if he did, he didn’t have a job and it was the middle of summer vacation, so where would he even need to go? Or at least, those were some of the reasons Aneirin listed when explaining why he wouldn’t teach Jameson how to drive. JJ watched as Aneirin closed the car trunk, and started walking down the block, as he always did when he went out working late at night.

After making sure Aneirin was far enough away, JJ rushed out the front door and over to the car. He opened the door to the back seat and climbed inside, squeezing into the space between the seats where you would normally put your feet. They kept a spare blanket in the car, and Jameson reached over and tried to cover himself, attempting to make it look like the blanket was naturally falling off the seat. Then he waited.

Just a few minutes later, the driver’s side door opened, and he heard Aneirin get inside. The car soon started, and headed out, with Aneirin having no idea Jameson was in the back seat.

He was tired of not knowing anything about where Aneirin went. And if he wouldn’t tell him, JJ would find out by himself.

They drove for a surprisingly long time, long enough for Jameson to start aching from being in this uncomfortable twisted position. He couldn’t exactly tell where they were going from his hiding spot, but he didn’t hear anything unusual, apart from the occasional strange commercial on the radio channel Aneirin was listening to. But of course, the car eventually stopped, and Aneirin climbed out. The locks thunked shut after he left.

Jameson waited a few minutes before sitting up and pushing the blanket aside. Looking out the car windows, he blinked in surprise. This…wasn’t what he was expecting. Instead of being parked outside some building on the outskirts of town, the car was pulled into a small gap in between two large, looming buildings. There was no light coming from them, and only the faint, watery street lamp beams to illuminate anything. Why would Aneirin have driven here…?

After a moment’s hesitation, Jameson unlocked the car door and stepped out. He walked out onto the street, finding it lined with similar tall, wide buildings. Where was this place? Some sort of storage? Why wasn’t anything lit up? JJ shivered, reaching into his pocket to double-check that his cell phone was there. He should find Aneirin, make sure that he was okay.

He looked left down the street, saw nothing, and looked right. There was a group of three people standing beneath one of the weak street lights. With them being the only people in sight, JJ headed in their direction. Eventually, he started picking up voices.

“—kid’s been a runner for three years, cut him some slack.” An unfamiliar female voice.

“No one gets slack at all.” An unfamiliar male voice. “Not even us, Kelly.”

“Still, he does his job.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” And that…that was Aneirin’s voice. Though strangely, his accent, a bit Irish from the years he’d spent being a foster kid in that country, had thickened. “Just give me the green.”

Jameson ducked around a corner of a building, peering out at the group of three. A man, a woman, and Aneirin. He watched as Aneirin handed over a backpack, and the man handed him a case. What was this? It seemed…shady. Aneirin couldn’t really be involved in something like this, right? 

The woman leaned closer to Aneirin, lowering her voice so it couldn’t be heard from where Jameson was watching. But judging from the way Aneirin tensed, whatever she was saying wasn’t good news. Aneirin responded in an equally low tone, and the man suddenly laughed. “You?! Tiny thing like you? Obvious blind spot and likely to collapse at any time? Nah, lad, we’ll go with the professionals.”

That was exactly the wrong thing to say. Aneirin bristled, and even from here Jameson could see the anger in his expression. “Easy there,” the woman said, her tone patronizing. “You wouldn’t want to fall down, would you?”

Aneirin lunged at her, and a scream rang out through the empty street. The woman stumbled back, turning enough so that Jameson could see the way her front was stained red. “You little—!” The man grabbed Aneirin by his jacket, and JJ couldn’t help but cry out.

He didn’t think it would be audible to the group, but both the man and Aneirin looked over toward him. JJ’s eyes widened, and he ducked behind the building. “Oh, you brought a friend, didn’t you, you little bastard?!” The man yelled. “Looks like you, too! Family field trip, is it?”

“Hey! Back off!” Aneirin snarled. It would’ve been intimidating, if not for the nervous crack in the middle.

“Oh no, I don’t think so!”

Jameson heard footsteps running towards him, and instantly took off, running down the gap between the buildings. But the man was much faster, and the footsteps grew louder. Jameson glanced over his shoulder, and the man was just a few feet away. He gasped, and pushed himself farther, turning onto another street, then running into another gap in an attempt to shake the man off.

“Don’t you run, you—AAARGK!”

The strange noise wasn’t enough to stop JJ from running. He continued to weave around the gaps in the buildings, until he arrived back at the one the car was parked in. He tore open the backseat door and practically threw himself inside, locking it behind him. He fell onto the floor of the car and stayed there, sitting, knees pulled to his chest and his heart pounding in his throat. His eyes were fixed on staring through the dirty glass of the car window.

A figure appeared there. Jameson made a strangled sort of sound, backing up. The figure knocked on the glass, then a flashlight turned on, shining into the car. Jameson blinked in the light, then squinted through it, recognizing Aneirin as the one holding the flashlight.

Aneirin pointed towards the driver’s side door, and disappeared, rounding around the car. The locks thunked, and Aneirin opened the door and climbed inside. “Jamie?” he called.

Jameson didn’t relax, but leaned forward, into the spot between the driver’s seat and the passenger seat.

“Oh my god!” Aneirin grabbed JJ’s head, one hand on either side, and pulled him even closer. “What were you thinking?! What are you even doing here?! Did you follow me? Why the fuck would you do that?! There’s a reason I don’t tell you what I do!”

Jameson was stunned into silence for a moment. He let Aneirin continue on in a similar vein for a while, then slowly signed, _I was just curious._

“Curious?! I—” Aneirin leaned back, burying his face in his hands and taking a few deep breaths. “You can’t… _do_ stuff like that, Jamie,” he said. 

_…I’m sorry,_ JJ signed hesitantly.

“It’s…fine, Jamie, just…just don’t do that again.” Aneirin sighed, looking out the windshield. “Who knows what could’ve happened to you?”

Jameson fell silent for a moment, then awkwardly climbed into the passenger seat, settling into it. _What happened to the man? And the woman?_

“They’re…dead,” Aneirin said slowly.

 _Did you kill them?_ Jameson asked, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“…yes,” Aneirin’s voice was barely audible.

_Why?!_

Aneirin opened the car door and leaned over outside, picking up something on the ground. He pulled the case from earlier into the car and threw it into the backseat. “Because we need money to live and shit, Jamie, that’s why. Someone offers you a lot, and all you need to do is…go back on your word, then you take it.”

JJ shook his head silently, shocked. _Aneirin…have you done this before?_

Aneirin shifted in his seat. “What, go to a regular drop-off then walk away with two people dead? No.”

Silence fell. Jameson dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“What’re you doing?” Aneirin said, sitting up straight.

 _Calling 999,_ Jameson answered.

“Wh—no! You can’t do that!” Aneirin grabbed Jameson’s wrist, pulling it, and the phone he was holding, away. “Look, I know it looks bad, but there’s absolutely nothing to connect us to this. See? I’m wearing gloves, no fingerprints.”

Jameson stared at him, absolutely stunned. _We can’t just let—_ he started to sign one-handedly.

“No, we have to. Jameson, if the police hear about this, they’re going to judge my place an unfit home, and me an unfit guardian, and they’re going to put you back in the system.” Aneirin tightened his grip on Jameson’s wrist. “I-I can’t let that happen! I can’t let you go back there! Who knows what’ll happen?!”

Jameson managed to pull his wrist away from Aneirin’s grip. _They’re not going to put a seventeen-year-old into the foster system. I’m practically an adult._

“As someone who was recently seventeen, that’s debatable. And _legally,_ you’re still a child. It doesn’t matter how close to eighteen you are, until your actual birthday, they’re not gonna let you go.” There was a strong bitter note in Aneirin’s voice. “I can’t…I’ve only had you back for a year, Jamie. After ten fucking years of wondering what happened to you. Please don’t…don’t leave.”

Jameson hesitated. Aneirin’s eyes were shining with a desperate light that could be seen even in the shadows the car was hiding in. And he had to admit, he didn’t want to leave his brother, either. He sighed gently, and put his cell phone down on the dashboard of the car. _Alright, fine._

Aneirin practically wilted with relief. “Thank you so much, Jamie.” He twisted in his seat, starting the car. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

The car headed out, with Jameson and Aneirin sitting in silence. Jameson stared out the window, watching as they gradually traveled to a more well-lit part of the town. He expected them to head home. But instead, Aneirin headed to the town center, and parked outside a lit-up building. “Look,” he said, glancing in JJ’s direction. “I’m sorry about…the yelling, earlier. I was just stressed and worried. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was angry with you.”

Jameson exhaled slowly. _It’s okay, Aneirin._

“I’ll make it up to you,” Aneirin promised. “Look.” He nodded at the building they were parked outside.

 _Wait…_ JJ’s eyes widened. _We’re going to Tompson’s?_

“Yep.” Aneirin smiled. “Ice cream sounds good after tonight. Luckily they’re open late. You can get whatever you want, whatever size.”

 _Really? Anything?_ JJ asked doubtfully. Tompson’s was known for being relatively expensive, but also delicious. They usually saved it for special occasions.

“Of course. It’s on me.”

JJ looked back out the window. He started nodding, slowly at first, then faster. _Well, alright then. Can’t do that in the car._

Aneirin laughed. “Course not. Hey, not even gonna say thank you?”

Jameson exhaled softly, and rolled his eyes. Aneirin was always like this. “Thhnk yu-yuh. Annn.” He could’ve signed it, but if Aneirin wanted that, he would’ve said ‘sign.’

“You’re welcome,” Aneirin smiled. “Now let’s go.”

The rest of the night was rather nice. Jameson almost forgot what had happened earlier. Almost. It turns out, these events would not be forgotten easily.

* * *

…Jameson was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of his text alert going off. **Jameson?? Are you oaky?? Whyd you hang up?** Chase asked. It was quickly followed by a ***okay**

 **I’m fine, Chase,** JJ replied. **I just had to think for a moment.**

**Are you actually fine or just saying that?**

Jameson thought hard about this question. **I won’t lie. I’m a little…** He paused, wanting to type out ‘scared,’ but that might be a bit too far. That was probably something he should talk over with his therapist on Monday; now was not the time to unload everything. **…shaken, hearing about this. But I’ll be okay, I promise.**

 **Alright, if your sure,** Chase said. **But if you ever need anyone, Im right here.**

**Thank you, Chase.**

The city bus finally pulled up to the station, and JJ hopped aboard, pressing his bus pass to the card reader before taking a seat. He stared out the window as the bus started rolling again. He couldn’t help but glance behind him, even knowing that nobody would be there.

* * *

A few days passed, and Monday morning dawned cold and rainy. Dr. Laurens opened her umbrella as soon as she got off the bus, holding it with her unbroken arm. She sighed quietly. Well, looked like she had to walk to work today. And for a while, actually, until her arm was healed enough for her to drive again. She’d better get used to it.

A few drizzly moments later, Laurens stepped inside the main doors of Silver Hills. Awkwardly closing her umbrella, she walked up to the front desk. “Hi, I need to see Dr. Newson, is she in?”

The orderly at the desk looked up, and her eyes widened. “Oh my god, Rya?!”

“Hey, Theresa,” Laurens said, smiling tiredly. “Is Newson in?”

“Yes, I-I can page her—mother of god, what happened to you?” Theresa asked as she started messing with her pager. “You disappeared! Are you alright?”

‘Alright’? Well, that was debatable. The broken arm was not ‘alright,’ and Laurens was pretty sure there was a lot else that would not fit into ‘alright.’ But she’d waited this long. She’d spent time in the hospital, then practically begged to go home so she could get used to being on her own, without having to worry about threats to her life. But still, she couldn’t stop thinking about getting back to work. She _knew_ Newson had taken over Schneep’s case, and she _knew_ Newson hated him. How could she just stand by and leave this situation alone? So, if by ‘alright’ you meant ‘functional and willing to help others,’ then yes, she was alright. “I’m fine, thanks,” Laurens said. “Should I just wait for Newson here?”

“Uh…yeah, that would be great.”

Laurens took a seat in the reception area, looking around. It seemed a bit surreal to be back here after…everything with Anti and Jackie. Like she was last here years ago, instead of just a few months.

About five minutes later, footsteps came down the hall, and Laurens stood up as Newson appeared. Newson’s eyes immediately locked onto her, and she froze. “Wh—Rya?”

“Yes, it’s me,” Laurens stated.

Newson gaped at her, then rushed over to stand in front of her. “You’re okay! Oh my god, I—we were so worried!”

“Really?” Laurens asked, not bothering to hide the surprise in her voice. “I mean…from what I remembered, you were probably going to fire me—”

“No! I mean—I—” Newson stammered. “I didn’t want you to—look, I may have made a bit of a rushed judgement that day, and I…would hate for that to be the last thing I ever said to you. You truly are great at your job, a-and a great person as well. And I’m not going to fire you.”

“Great,” Laurens nodded. “In that case, can I take my patient back please?”

“Wh—” Newson seemed taken aback by the question stated so clearly. “I…mean…”

“Because I don’t believe that your methods work well with him,” Laurens said, voice and expression deadpan. “Unless something has changed in the two months I’ve been gone.”

“I…” Newson cleared her throat, collecting herself. “Of course you can take the case again. Do understand that I—hello, can I help you?”

Laurens turned around. A tall woman in a black raincoat had just entered the reception area, carrying a briefcase. “Actually, yes,” the woman said. “I’m looking for Dr. Jennifer Newson.”

“That would be me,” Newson said, patting down her coat and smiling cordially. “Do you need something?”

“Ah. My name is Aja Bakshi, I am from Henson & Singh At Law.” Bakshi set her briefcase on the reception desk, opening it up and slapping a piece of paper covered in type down on the surface. “My client wishes to sue you for malpractice, negligence, and abuse of power with your position. This is the notice, details are included on it, as well as my phone number.”

Newson was left speechless. She just stared at Bakshi, absolutely shocked, her wide-eyed gaping expression somewhat reminiscent of a fish. Laurens had to bite back a smile as the thought occurred to her. “Uh…” Newson finally said. “Who…who’s suing me?”

“Details are on the notice, Dr. Newson,” Bakshi said calmly. “We have scheduled a court hearing for the 23rd. We expect to see you there.” And with that, Bakshi snapped the briefcase closed, and turned on her heel and left, door swinging closed behind her.

“Uh…Dr. Newson, are you alright?” Theresa asked.

Newson didn’t answer, instead picking up the paper and scanning it over. “Maher…?” she muttered. “I know that name…”

“Well, I’ll leave you to that,” Dr. Laurens said. “For now, I’d like to see my patient. But I seem to have lost my keycard.”

Newson looked up sharply. “Uh…right. I’ll call Oliver Hopkins, he can take you to the room. Can you get a coat on with your arm like that? Dress code, and all. We have some in—”

“In the back room, I know,” Laurens said. “I’ll meet Oliver there, then.”

About ten minutes later, Laurens had made her way to the back room and pulled on a white coat over her cast before replacing her arm in her sling.

“…Doc?”

Laurens glanced over, watching as Oliver rounded the corner. She smiled. “Hello, Oliver. Your phone is poking out of your pocket, by the way. Be careful.”

Oliver laughed, and wiped his eyes. “Holy shit, you’re okay. I mean, your arm, but. You know.”

“I do know, thank you,” Laurens chuckled. She then sighed. “Anyway, I wanted to check on Schneep. I don’t think I’ll be able to start a session until tomorrow, after I get all the stuff sorted out for coming back, but I…just want to see if he’s alright.”

Oliver winced. “That’s a…that’s a good idea.”

Listening to his tone, Laurens was suddenly shot through with worry. Part of her had wondered if her concern was a bit strange, especially for a therapist-patient relationship, but that one sentence was proof she was justified. “Alright…let’s go down to his room, then.” Laurens turned and started down the hall.

“Uh, Doc?” Oliver called. “He’s not in his room. He’s in the quiet room.”

Laurens stopped, turning around to look at him. “…well,” she said. “Let’s get him out of there, then.”

“Yeah, uh. Good idea,” Oliver muttered. “I should probably tell you that he’s been in there a couple times, and he…doesn’t react well to it.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Laurens muttered, already heading down the hall in the other direction. Honestly, they should just call the room what it actually was: solitary. She supposed it wasn’t a bad idea in principle; sometimes the more hostile patients needed a place to cool down where they couldn’t hurt anyone or themselves. But in situations like this, locking someone in a room alone did more harm than good. Especially now that she knew what had _actually_ happened to Schneep in the nine months he disappeared.

The door to the quiet room looked identical to all the other rooms in the older wing of the hospital, with the only exception being that it didn’t have a room number. But once Oliver opened the door, it became clear what made this room so different. It was the only place in the entire building that had its walls padded, and there was no furniture inside except for a bedframe with a mattress but nothing else. Laurens stepped into the room, looking around. She quickly spotted the figure curled up on the floor in the corner. “Schneep?” She called softly.

Schneep had his arms wrapped around his head, but upon hearing his name, he flinched and moved them enough to see out at her.

“Hey, it’s me,” Laurens said, keeping her voice friendly. “Remember me?”

“Hm.” The small sound wasn’t a confirmation or a denial. Schneep’s eyes darted towards the doorway, with Oliver standing in it.

Laurens looked back towards the doorway as well. _Get out of sight,_ she mouthed. Oliver looked hesitant, but stepped to the side, out of view. Laurens looked back towards Schneep, taking a few steps forward. “Schneep, I need you to answer me. Do you remember me?”

“…Jackie?” Schneep said, his voice hoarse.

“No, I’m not Jackie,” Laurens said. She took a few more steps forward, then got down to kneel on the floor. “You’re not with Jackie right now. You’re in the hospital, remember?”

This seemed to confused Schneep for a bit, but he loosened up, uncovering his head as he realized Laurens wasn’t a threat. “Hospital…” he muttered. “Which one?”

“Silver Hills,” Laurens said.

A short pause. “You are…not lying?” Immediately after asking the question, Schneep laughed. “You would say you are not, either way.”

“I wouldn’t lie about where you are, Schneep,” Laurens said quietly. “I wouldn’t trick you like that.” She paused for a moment, gauging Schneep’s reaction. “Do you need anything?”

“Do I…?” The question threw him off for a bit. “I…I do not want to be here. No, no. Not here.”

“Alright, then let’s go.” Laurens held out her hand, palm-up. Schneep flinched away for a moment, but then reached out and grabbed it. “We’re going to stand up now, okay?”

Schneep nodded, and Laurens unfolded herself from her kneeling position, awkwardly doing her best to stand up without using her arms. After a few moments of trying, she succeeded, and helped pull Schneep to his feet. He immediately stumbled, leaning against her. Laurens gasped slightly, noting the cloudy look in Schneep’s eyes and the way he was shaking a bit. There was no reason for him to be this heavily sedated. “How’re you feeling?” Laurens asked.

“Hmm…cotton,” Schneep said.

“I see. Can you walk?”

“I…I think so, yes.” Despite this assertion, when Laurens started to walk, Schneep only stumbled and almost fell.

“Whoa, take it easy,” Laurens said. “I’m going to call someone who can help, alright?”

“Al…yes.”

Laurens looked toward the doorway. Oliver had poked his head into view, making eye contact with her. She nodded, and he came into the room, silently lifting Schneep into a carrying position. Schneep didn’t protest. “We’re going back to your room, Schneep,” Laurens said. “Okay?”

Schneep paused. Then: “You are the doctor.”

“Yes, I am a doctor. So are you.”

“I know. I mean, you are…you stopped coming,” Schneep mumbled.

Laurens nodded. “Yes, but I didn’t want to. I would’ve kept coming if I could. But now I’m back.”

“Very good. Good that you are alright.” Schneep sighed. “Can we please leave here?”

“Yes, we’re leaving right now,” Laurens said. She started heading to the door, glancing back to make sure Oliver and Schneep were following her. They were.

She sighed gently. This was Newson’s fault, she knew it. But now, hopefully, they wouldn’t have to struggle with that for much longer.

* * *

“Siri, what does GCS stand for?”

Jackie suddenly snapped to attention, almost hitting his head on the corner of the table. God, he hadn’t even heard Anti come into the room; he must’ve been buried deep in a daydream. Though, honestly, he couldn’t blame himself for that. It was much preferable to be in a daydream world than reality right now. In a daydream, he was able to forget about the cotton taste of the gag in his mouth, and the awkward angle his arms were handcuffed behind his back and around a table leg.

“Okay, I found this on the web,” said the robotic voice of Siri.

Anti was lounging on one of the apartment’s armchairs, dressed in an outfit that…wasn’t exactly his usual style. Jackie was oddly reminded of the way Chase dressed. Anti’s green glass eye had been replaced with a blue one, but he still had the old watch around his neck. “Three to five is good, then,” he muttered to himself. Anti glanced up, noticing Jackie staring at him. “Expecting something, hoodie man?”

Jackie flinched, and looked away, fixing his eyes on a water stain on the wall. He heard the sound of Anti shifting position, but didn’t look back.

_Thwack!_

A silver blade embedded itself in the wall inches from Jackie’s nose. Jackie cried out, flinging himself backwards and hitting his head against the table leg. Anti laughed. “God, you look like you just had a heart attack!” He paused. “Actually…Hey Siri, what do I do if someone has a heart attack?”

“Okay, I found this on the web.”

Jackie squeezed his eyes shut, trying to take deep, calm breaths. It was difficult, to say the least. Part of him wanted to shout at Anti, ask him what he wanted with him. The rest of him knew that would be a terrible idea, even if he could speak.

This wouldn’t last forever, would it? Something had to change. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.


	13. Developments and Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase gets some positive news for once, Laurens and Schneep have their first proper session since her return, and Anti finds out more about this group of friends.

Chase woke up at two in the afternoon. Well technically, he was awake at twelve, but lied in bed for another couple hours before actually getting up. “Oh my gooood.” He squeezed his eyes shut and covered them with his hands. Why couldn’t he get up at a normal time lately? At least today he had an excuse because he had the kids over yesterday. Saturdays to Mondays, that was the agreement. And Stacy wasn’t ready to renegotiate it. **  
**

They’d talked about that last night, when she came to pick them up. “Chase, I know this isn’t…ideal,” she said in a low voice. “But look around. Your fridge is empty, things are scattered around the house in a mess, and, please correct me if I’m wrong, but I…haven’t heard anything about a job or anything.” She sighed. “It’s not even really up to me, you know. Courts.”

“No, no, I get it,” Chase had replied. “It makes sense.”

“We can work things out once things are more settled.”

Well, now he was lying in bed and feeling bad, which was a step down from lying in a bed feeling tired, so he decided to get up and shower. It had been a while since that happened, and he couldn’t go to his one outing he’d planned today like that. He rolled out of bed, took a quick shower, ate a Pop-Tart for breakfast, and he felt a little better.

It really did make sense to have the kids spend most of their time with their mom. Chase knew he hadn’t exactly been…kept-together recently. And by “recently,” he meant for about the past two years. Sophie and Nick needed a parent who could actually put energy into raising them. He could do that, eventually. If he worked on it. “Positive thoughts, Chasey boy,” he said under his breath. “Be optimistic.” 

Okay, that was enough of that for now. He had something to do. But before he did that, he checked his phone for any texts. Marvin sent a video of Luna and Ragamuffin being cute, that was nice. Nothing else. Alright, no more stalling. He grabbed his jacket and cap and headed out to the car.

* * *

He stepped into the hospital just as visiting hours were starting. By now he had hospital check-in routines down to muscle memory. He was signing his name on the check-in clipboard when he was interrupted by a loud voice: “Ah, Mr. Brody! Good to see you again.”

Chase jumped a bit, then turned around. “Oh. Hi, Dr. Emerson.”

The doctor was a tall man with a thick beard. Chase had always thought he looked more like a Viking than one of the city’s best…well, he couldn’t remember what exact field the doctor was a specialist in, all he knew was it had something to do with whatever had gone wrong with Jack. Brains or nerves or something. “So soon, huh?” Dr. Emerson said, chuckling. “No, I understand.”

“Uhhh…” Was Chase missing something? The last time he’d been here was two weeks ago. “O…kay?”

“Well, don’t show too much enthusiasm.” Dr. Emerson raised an eyebrow. “Are you still confused, then?”

“Confused about wh—I mean I am confused, because I don’t know what to be confused about.” That was starting to sound less and less like a word.

“Ah.” Emerson’s smile faltered. “Do you not remember what I told you yesterday?”

“I wasn’t here yesterday,” Chase said, his voice slowly rising as nerves creeped up on him. “What are you talking about?”

Now Emerson looked as baffled as Chase felt. “I…think there’s been some misunderstanding here.”

“Y’know, I’m gonna, uh, go to Jack’s room.” Chase started walking away, down the hall towards the ICU wing. “You can, uh, come with me and tell me what happened yesterday while we go.”

Emerson followed. As the two of them waited at the elevator, he started explaining. “Well, about this time yesterday, you walked in, checked in just like you did, and went up to the room.” The elevator arrived with a _ding_ , and the two of them stepped inside. Chase pressed the button for the third floor and listened as the doctor continued. “Of course, I only assume this part, since you wrote your name on the visitor’s slip. I was already in the room, and that’s when I told you about the change in Jack’s condition—”

“I’m sorry, what?!” Chase shouted.

“My god, man, you can be loud when you want,” Emerson said, taking a step away. “Anyway, yes, his GCS score went up.”

“I…don’t know what that means,” Chase said, staring at him in shock. The elevator _dinged_ again, but he didn’t even step out.

“That’s what you said yesterday,” Emerson said. He made an ‘after you’ gesture, and Chase finally stepped out, now following Emerson as he walked down a familiar hallway. “Then you said you would look it up later, and I left you with Jack.”

“None of this happened,” Chase said, clenching his shaking hands into fists. “This did not happen, I-I was busy all day yesterday.”

“Well, could it have been one of your friends?” Emerson asked. “You do all look similar, don’t you? Though I don’t understand why he’d pretend to be you.”

Chase fell silent. He knew that neither Marvin or JJ would do something like that. But there was someone who might. Anti. In fact, hadn’t Anti done the same thing once before? Pretended to be Marvin visiting the hospital? But why? Jack didn’t have anything to do with any of this. He had no idea what Anti was planning, and that led his mind to the worst case scenarios.

They arrived at Room 309, and Chase reached forward to open the door. “Oh wait,” Dr. Emerson interrupted, placing a hand on the door. “I should probably tell you about the changes. I would have yesterday, but you—or, er, your friend saw first.”

“Okay, so what are theys?” Chase asked. “These changes. What’s a GCS? Is that some sort of fancy brain wave or something?”

Emerson chuckled. “No, it’s not actually anything in the body. GCS stands for Glasgow Coma Scale, it’s a way to describe someone’s level of consciousness after brain trauma. I suppose I’ve been so used to talking about it with others in the department that I forgot I had to explain it.”

“Yes, that would be appreciated,” Chase prompted.

“Well, the GCS measures three factors: eye opening, verbal response, and motor response. Each of these are measured on a scale, and when combined there’s a highest possible score of 15. Mr. McLoughlin’s has recently raised from the lowest possible score, three, to a five.”

“And that’s good,” Chase clarified.

“Yes, it is very good.” Emerson smiled. “I’ll be honest with you, Chase, it’s been over a year, and things weren’t looking good for Jack’s recovery. This is a huge development.”

Chase nodded. “R…right.” He grabbed the doorknob and swung it open, stepping inside. 

The room looked the same as ever. Jack looked the same as ever. Chase hesitated, then walked up next to the bed. And then the difference was clear. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Jack opened his eyes.

Chase had to stop and process what he was looking at. His eyes were open. _He was looking at him._ “I…oh my god.” He covered his mouth with his hand. “Oh my god, Jack?”

“He can’t respond, Chase.” Emerson walked up next to him. “He hasn’t reacted to anything verbally or through motion. Just the eyes, and it’s not spontaneous. Only to sound.”

“Oh.” Chase nodded, slowly lowering his hand. “Can he hear us?”

“Well, we have no way of knowing,” Emerson explained. “It could only be an automatic response, he could be hearing us but not comprehending what we say, or he could be listening to everything.” He paused. “You understand that a GCS score of five is still very low, yes? Anything below an eight is still considered to be a coma.”

“Right…” Chase took another step closer, reaching down to touch Jack’s hand. Still, it was an improvement, and at this point, he’d take any sign of change for the better. It had been so long since he last saw his friend smile…talked to him…perhaps eventually, he’d be able to do that again. But as the hopeful thought arose, it was brought back down by a sinking feeling. He looked over at Emerson. “Hey doc, this is important. I didn’t come to visit yesterday. My friends didn’t either. There’s…” he hesitated. “There’s someone else. He’s been following us, a-and I don’t know what he wants, but it’s most likely not…good.”

Emerson turned pale. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, the police know about this guy.” Even though he hadn’t told them that he thought Anti was stalking them…well, at least they knew he existed. He wasn’t sure if he should tell them, after all, he didn’t have much proof. “So you have to be careful, okay? I-I’ll tell my friends, we need to find a way for you to make sure it’s us and not him…” He looked back down at Jack. Nobody was more vulnerable than someone in a coma.

“I’ll wait outside, we can discuss this later,” Emerson said. “After you’re done here.”

Chase nodded. Emerson left, footsteps retreating, and Chase didn’t turn around as he heard the door shut. He squeezed Jack’s hand tighter. “Sorry you got caught up in this,” he muttered. “I don’t know what he’d want from you. I mean, Anti popped up in our lives after you went through all this. Or, well, JJ knew him.” He pulls over the chair, sitting down. “Yeah, uh, this Anti guy. He’s bad news. He kidnapped Schneep, and like…all those bad things I told you about, that he was accused of, it was actually Anti, and Schneep got framed. I guess it’s easy to scapegoat a guy who can’t even confirm he really saw you.” He paused. “He’s got Jackie too. The police are looking for him, so I guess there’s a better chance of finding Jackie now that they know where he is. Also. The craziest thing about this is that Anti is JJ’s brother.” He laughed dryly. “God, what a coincidence, huh? Maybe fate does exist. And it’s a dick.”

He goes quiet, watching Jack. After a few minutes of silence, his eyes started to close. “Y’know I really do hope you can hear me, and you’re listening,” Chase said. Jack’s eyes automatically opened wide again. “Because then you could tell us what Anti was doing here yesterday. It would be…I guess it would make me feel a bit better, to at least know.” He took a deep breath. “But you know what? It’s gonna be okay. Eventually. It might take a while, and I’ll be honest, right now is kind of sucky, but it’s gonna get better eventually. Y’know what you used to say, positive mental attitude. The viewers are really liking that, by the way. They still miss you, of course, but I’m keeping on. But on the track of positivity, at least Schneep’s first doctor is back, so he’ll be okay, I think. Marvin’s doing good, too. JJ…well, he was freaking out a bit, about Anti…I don’t want to make assumptions, but at best, they didn’t get along, and now he’s here, so it would freak anyone out. But he’s doing a bit better, I think. Yeah. It’s all getting better. Slowly.” He blinked furiously. “For everyone else. That…that’s great.”

For a moment, he thinks he feels Jack’s fingers move. Not like they were squeezing his hand, but a movement nonetheless. He looks down, surprised, but he doesn’t think anything’s changed. Maybe he imagined it. But in any case…“Hah. Y’know I can practically hear you giving me a lecture on self-care. Yeah, I’m trying, bro. Still in a bit of a gray spot. I really am happy that everyone else is doing good, it just kinda sucks when you’re in that gray spot, you know? But I am great and I’ll get through it. Yeah.” He didn’t really believe that, but Marvin had told him that saying positive things about yourself was the first step to believing them. “I just…miss you, Jack. Don’t want anything to happen to you.”

For the rest of the visit, he goes quiet, watching the heart monitor rise and fall. Things were crazy, but it would be fine. It would be.

* * *

Dr. Laurens had rescheduled her sessions to be later in the day. Because quite frankly, she wanted to sleep in. And judging by the records Newson had left, the past sessions had gone all over the place in terms of what time they took place, so it wasn’t like she was interrupting a schedule. It was shortly before five o’clock when she met up with Oliver and they headed to Room 1010.

When Laurens opened the door, she saw Schneep was standing up and pacing the length of the back wall. Oliver handed her the paper cup with the medication inside, then went over to stand in the corner and try to attract as little attention as was possible for someone over six feet tall. Laurens nodded encouragingly, and walked forward. “Schneep?” She said, putting a confident tone in her voice. “Are you ready?”

Schneep jumped, and whirled around. Wariness faded away to happiness. “So it _is_ you,” he said. “You are back. Unless this is not real too…”

“No, it’s real,” Laurens said, smiling. “I’m back. Dr. Newson won’t be handling your case anymore.” She’d actually briefly passed Newson when coming in, but hadn’t really stopped to chat. Newson briefly mentioned having an appointment with her lawyer after leaving, but Laurens hadn’t pushed. She already knew about the lawsuit anyway.

“Oh thank god,” Schneep said, relieved. “She was not…helpful.”

“That is the least you could say,” Laurens muttered. “Anyway, before we get started, I need you to…well, there’s this.” She set the paper cup down on the table.

Schneep paled, backing up. “No no no no, I have a clear head, I have energy, I will not—”

“There are no sedatives in this,” Laurens hurried to say. “I promise.” It was messed up that she had to clarify that. “It _shouldn’t_ have that effect, and if it does, please let me know so that I can change it.” Schneep didn’t move any closer. “Dr. Newson had you taking an improper medication with much too high a dosage, so you’ll have to slowly ease off it and onto a medication that should be better.”

Schneep hesitated for a moment longer before stepping forward, picking up the paper cup, and swallowing the pill inside in one gulp. “If this is not…” He trailed off.

“It’ll be fine,” Laurens said reassuringly. “If it isn’t, you have to tell me so I can fix it, okay. Now.” She sat down on the room’s chair. “I think it’s important to give you an update.” She waited for Schneep to sit on the bed before continuing. “So, it appears as though I’ve been misunderstanding your condition. In that you actually have two of them.”

“Oh?” Schneep blinked, genuinely surprised.

“Yes.” Laurens automatically reached for her journal, before remembering that she’d given it to Oliver. He’d told her yesterday that he gave it to Schneep’s friend Chase, and she had yet to ask him for it back. She was now working with some loose sheets of paper, which she spread on the table. “You are aware of your schizoaffective disorder, but now that I know more about what’s happened to you, I believe you also have some post-traumatic stress disorder.”

Schneep paused. “Ah.”

She waited for a stronger reaction, but didn’t receive one. “Yes. So that will change our approach from now on.”

“Alright,” Schneep said slowly. “Is there medication for it?”

“We’re still focusing on getting you off the last one,” Laurens explained. “But perhaps I could give you some anti—” Schneep flinched “—anxiety medication later. But it can’t be treated solely with that. You understand that, right?”

Schneep nodded slowly. “What happened to your arm?”

“A-ah…well…” Laurens hesitated. “Obviously I broke it. Dislocated my wrist, too.”

“How?”

“Well…” Laurens hesitated. She didn’t know what effect it would have on Schneep if he knew everything that happened with her and Anti and Jackie. The last thing she wanted right now was to upset him. And besides, she didn’t really want to talk about it anyway. “I’ll tell you some other time, okay? For now, I want to focus on you.” She shuffled her papers. “Schneep…there’s no way to ease into this that won’t alarm you, so I’m just going to say it. Do you know Anti?”

The effect was immediate. Schneep jumped, scooting backwards on the bed. “Do not say the name!”

“Why not?” Laurens asked. “You told me once that this would give him power, right? That giving him attention would make him stronger?”

Schneep nodded, looking significantly paler.

“Well, here’s where things are difficult, Schneep,” she said patiently. “I believe that he’s a major source of trauma for you.” Because why wouldn’t he be? Laurens remembered all the things Jackie had told her about what happened to the two of them, and that would give anyone trauma. “And we need to work that out, yeah? But we can’t do that if we can’t talk about him. So. Here’s what I’m thinking. We’ll be as indirect as possible. I’ll ask you about him, and you can give answers that are as short or as long as you see fit. If at any moment you feel like we are getting…you know, too close to giving him influence, tell me and we will stop. Does that work?”

He didn’t answer for a long time, shaking slightly, eyes darting around as if looking for something. Then he nodded slowly.

“Great.” Again, Laurens wished she had her journal full of notes. It would be a lot easier to reference past events. But she was stuck with this. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you said before that An—sorry, that he makes you hurt people. Am I right?”

Schneep nodded, starting to rock softly.

That made sense with what she knew. “Does he physically take control of you? How does this happen?”

“He…” Schneep’s voice cracked. “He puts…th-thoughts in my head…a-and makes me want…to…”

And that sounded familiar. Laurens made a note of that. “So…you have thoughts about wanting to hurt people, and this is caused by him?” This sounded like some form of intrusive or otherwise unwanted thoughts, and combined with his hallucinations and delusions, he believed Anti to be behind them.

Schneep nodded. “O-or he…he would say—tell me to do something horrible, and if I did—did not do it, he would do so-something worse.”

“But you clearly don’t want to hurt anyone, right?” Laurens asked.

“No!” Schneep protested. “I never—never! I-I may be angry with some people, maybe fight, but the th-things he makes me—” He buried his head in folded arms, taking deep breaths.

“Do you want us to stop?” Laurens asked gently.

He nodded without looking up.

“Schneep.” Laurens leaned forward. She waited until he looked at her before continuing. “You know this is not your fault, right? You’ve said that to me before. Any thoughts, any actions you may have done, it is not your fault.”

“I know that,” Schneep sounded a bit irritated. “I know that, i-it is him, I just—I still worry, I still…feel…”

“I know,” Laurens said softly. “Which is why I’m going to try to give you some ways to deal with this, okay? Some ways to cope.”

“That would be…appreciated,” he muttered.

“Good. Let’s begin.” This would be a good starting point, but that’s what it was, a starting point. Laurens could already see a long path ahead. The main problem here being that Anti wasn’t actually making any of these thoughts appear in Schneep’s head. But that had to come later down the road. There was still a lot to do before that.

* * *

“Hey. Wake up.”

Jackie felt something kick his side and he winced, opening his eyes. Anti was standing in front of him, looking down. He stared up at him, tensed, waiting.

“Good,” Anti nodded. “It’s time to eat. Sit up straight.”

Jackie hurried to sit up, the movement making his spine crack. He’d taken to slouching, which probably wasn’t good for his posture when he was tied to a table leg.

Anti huffed, a bit impatient. He kneeled down next to Jackie, reaching around behind him. Jackie stiffened, very deliberately not moving even as he felt the handcuffs unlock. He’d tried to run once before. Schneep had encouraged it, almost demanded that Jackie get out even if it meant leaving him behind. He hadn’t liked it, but he’d listened. And he’d almost made it out of the house. But Anti caught him right at the end, and he hadn’t been happy. Jackie was pretty sure he had some burn scars on his arm from that day. And now, in such close quarters with Anti, who hadn’t left the apartment except for once yesterday, he didn’t want to risk it.

“Alright,” Anti muttered. He’d cuffed Jackie’s right arm to the table leg, letting his left one be free. Now he stood up, grabbing a plate and cup from the table, which he set down on the floor next to Jackie. A sandwich and a glass of milk. It would do. Anti sat down on the nearest chair and pulled out his phone, glancing at Jackie every few seconds. Jackie didn’t respond, just pulled out the gag and started eating. He should hurry.

All was silent for a few minutes. Until: “Wait, what?” Anti sat up straight, eyes scanning his phone again. “That’s—ugh.” He tapped the screen a couple times, then dialed a number and held the phone to his ear. Jackie could hear it ringing from here. The moment the call was picked up, Anti started talking. “Yeah, hi, it’s me. What the fuck?” There were the faint hints of a voice on the other end. “What, did you think I’d just forget your number? No. Now what the fuck is this on the website?” Anti paused. “I think you do know what I’m talking about. I told you, I don’t do repeats.” The voice on the other end sounded angry. “Well if he survived three stab wounds, I’d say he’s earned the right to live. Besides, he hasn’t told anyone, has he? That would’ve been on the news.” Pause. “I don’t do refunds either.”

Jackie couldn’t help but be intrigued. What was he talking about? It sounded like someone hired Anti as some sort of hitman. Was that what he did in his spare time? Or maybe that was his job and this serial killer stuff was just a fun side project for him. Jackie shuddered at the thought of it.

“Well boo-fuckity-hoo for you.” Anti drawled. “Look, I get not wanting loose ends, but I’m done here. I’m busy, I have shit to do, and the cops know about me now.” A long pause as the voice on the other end talked for a while. Anti raised an eyebrow. “Give me two hundred pounds right now and I’ll consider it.” Loud shouting from the other end. “Don’t give me that shit, that’s spare change for you. Tell you what, I’ll check out the guy’s house, too.” Pause. “Yeah, if I decide I want to.” Long pause. “Great. What’s the address again?” Short pause. “No, I didn’t, that would be insane. It was a lot easier to ambush him while he was out. What’s the address.” Another pause. Anti’s eyes suddenly widened. “Wait, really?” The other voice said something angry. “It’s none of your business. But I’m checking my account now, if the number doesn’t go up by two hundred in the next five minutes, I’m not even gonna think about it.” He hung up the call unceremoniously, and started swiping about on the phone screen again.

Well that was…interesting. Jackie stared at Anti as he seemed to wait for something, eyes glued to his phone. After a short while, he grinned, and looked away, immediately seeing Jackie. He glared. “What’re you looking at, hoodie?”

Jackie flinched and looked away, stuffing the last bit of sandwich into his mouth.

“That’s what I thought.” Anti stood up and disappeared through a doorway, into what Jackie assumed was the bedroom area. A few minutes later he returned, wearing a gray hoodie with a backpack slung over his shoulder. He crouched on the floor next to Jackie. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?” He chuckled. “No, of course not.” He grabbed Jackie’s wrist and yanked it around the table leg, causing him to cry out. Click. The handcuffs were back in place. Before Jackie could even process that, Anti was shoving the gag back in his mouth, sudden enough to make him choke a bit. “Of course, if you’re not here when I get back…” Anti didn’t have to finish that sentence.

After a moment of staring into Jackie’s eyes, making sure he got the point, Anti stood up and headed out, slamming the front door behind him.

Jackie flinched, then exhaled slowly, squeezing his eyes shut. Alone. Anti would be back soon, of course, but he’d enjoy this while it lasted. Trying to relax as much as he was able while in this awkward position, he tried to drift away in the relieving silence.

* * *

Anti knew this address.

He drove there, parking some ways away and walking the rest of the way. The neighborhood immediately looked familiar, and by the time he reached the address, he knew where he was going, and wasn’t surprised to stop outside the house of Marvin Maher.

Marvin wasn’t someone he was particularly interested in. He knew enough to get a grasp on him…which was admittedly a lot. 28 years old, Irish, currently unemployed, no living relatives aside from his grandmother, has two cats and a snake, and was a practicing Wiccan. Though those were just the facts. In personality, Marvin was stubborn, loud, very visible with his emotions, and had some difficulty in social situations. 

And again, though that was a lot, Anti wasn’t particularly interested in him. Not compared to the other one, Chase. Ironic, considering that for all intents and purposes, Chase lived a much less exciting life. He didn’t go anywhere, had an ex-wife and kids, and ran two YouTube channels for “work:” his own channel, BroAverage, and the one that belonged to his coma-bound friend, jacksepticeye. Perhaps it was the fact that he was so ordinary, stuck in this extraordinary situation, that fascinated him.

But he wasn’t here to find out more about Chase. Anti wasn’t usually one to try again on a job, since it increased his chance of being found, and anonymity was his greatest shield. He’d only decided to consider it due to already being known to the police in this city—a fact that he cursed that doctor lady for every day since she escaped. But now, realizing who his target was made this much more interesting.

Anti circled around the house, scouting it. Looking into the rooms, it appeared empty. All the windows were locked pretty securely, as was the front door…but not so much the side door. He twisted the knob and pulled it open. It looked like a chest of drawers had been pressed against the door from the other side, perhaps to prevent it from opening. He chuckled. This door had a spring hinge; it swung both ways. It also didn’t appear to have a functioning lock. Good, he was happy he didn’t have to pick his way inside and risk someone noticing that.

He pushed the chest of drawers to the side and entered the house, finding himself at the end of a hallway with a door to the left and right. Once inside, he carefully pulled the door shut and replaced the drawers; he could find another exit. The hall opened up into a living room. Anti walked down, careful to tread only where the carpet was worn down so his footsteps wouldn’t stand out. The living room was about normal, its main feature being the snake terrarium. He stared at the snake inside for a bit, but it appeared to be asleep. Huh, he didn’t know snakes could be purple. Mentally making a note to look that up later, he noticed another hallway branching off the living room, and was about to head there when something caught his eye.

A turquoise notebook was lying on the coffee table, looking quite out of place with the rest of Marvin’s decorations. Odd. Was that someone else’s? Anti frowned, and idly picked it up, skimming the pages. There was something tucked inside…a plastic keycard? He looked over the handwritten notes, not paying much attention until he saw a familiar name: Schneep.

He immediately started paying attention to this journal. What was this? He flipped back to the beginning, seeing a name written on the inside cover: Dr. Rya Laurens.

That doctor lady. Anti narrowed his eyes. Was this her notebook? Why did Marvin have it? What was in it? Was he mentioned in it anywhere?

He took his backpack off his shoulders and slid the notebook and its keycard inside. And then he looked up, and happened to glance out the window. Luckily he did in time, because he saw people coming up the front path.

Instinct kicked in and he looked around for the nearest exit. The back window. It only had a latch to lock it. Quickly he ran over, threw it open, and jumped outside, closing it behind him. Now in the backyard, he stayed low, backing up.

Once he was pressed against the fence of the house behind this one, Anti dared to straighten just enough to look through the window into the living room. It appeared as though Marvin had come home. He’d also brought a friend, the only one of the group that he didn’t actually know the name of. That annoyed him. But he just hadn’t seen the others with him that often, and looking up Chase and Marvin on social media, this guy didn’t appear in many photos, and the ones he did show up in never mentioned him by name or tagged an account. All he knew about this last friend was that he had a nice mustache and spoke BSL.

He watched as Marvin set a folder down on the coffee table, apparently not noticing the missing notebook. Marvin started talking with his friend, the two of them signing quickly. Anti huffed. God, it had been so long since he’d had to understand sign language. Not since—Anti stiffened, and pushed that thought away.

The point was, now this group would be forcing him to relearn it. He watched the two inside have an animated conversation, picking up the word ‘doctor’ a lot. It didn’t seem like an argument, but it was very…passionate. Expressions changed rapidly. Marvin made a sign, the letter J twice in a row—

Anti froze, staring. Not caring if he was visible.

He had to have imagined that, didn’t he? Marvin couldn’t have just made that sign. But no, he’d seen that, clear as day. But maybe…maybe the sign meant something different in this context. It couldn’t be…

He looked more closely at the friend he didn’t know the name of. This whole group looked similar, looked like him. That was weird, but it didn’t…didn’t mean…

The friend leaned forward, and something silver flashed. A silver disk on a matching chain around his neck. Anti stared at it, and reached up to where he wore a similar disk on a chain. He’d recognize that anywhere. It wasn’t just a silver circle, it was a watch, and he now grabbed his tightly.

Well, it wasn’t his, technically. It was his brother’s.

* * *

“So how do names work in sign language, then?” Aneirin asked. “Are you supposed to sign them all out? With letters?”

Jameson picked up his pencil and started writing, showing him the result. _Goodness, no, that would take forever. There are these things called name signs, which are unique sign combinations for people. Those are their names._

They were sitting in the living room of Aneirin’s house, legs pulled up onto the old sofa he’d gotten from the side of the road. It was in pretty good condition, for one that had a ‘Free’ sign taped to it. Eighteen and a homeowner would’ve been impressive for anyone else, but Aneirin had sped through the steps to getting it, knowing he needed a place to stay as soon as possible. He was sure that if the realtor knew where he’d gotten the money to pay for it, he never would’ve sold it to him.

“Okay, so what would mine be, then?” Aneirin asked, spreading out along the length of the sofa. “Do I get to choose it?”

Jameson considered this, and Aneirin watched him silently. His little brother was sixteen, and very thin and small, pulling into the corner of the sofa like he was trying to take up as little space as possible. _Well, I think I have an idea for what I could call you. You can tell me if you don’t like it._ He made the sign for the letter A, and followed it with another sign, curling his hands into fists and rubbing them against each other.

“Well, it depends on what it means,” Aneirin joked.

Jameson chuckled a bit. _It’s just the letter A followed by the sign for “brother.”_

“Oh.” Aneirin gasped softly. Then a wide smile broke across his face. “Yeah, I like that.” He paused. “Do you have one?”

 _Yes! I chose one, but no one’s ever used it_. He signed the letter J twice.

Aneirin blinked. “That’s it? That’s just…JJ.”

 _Well it’s my initials,_ Jameson pointed out. _I like the sound of it._

“Okay,” Aneirin said slowly. He copied the sign. “But when would I ever need to call you that? Instead of just saying it.”

 _You_ are _saying it, just in sign,_ Jameson wrote. _But I thought that, if you can’t talk after a bad seizing, you could use BSL._

“Uh…no, I don’t think so.” Aneirin frowned. “The problem is that after a seizure I’m confused. It’s not that I can’t talk because my muscles don’t work, but cause I don’t know where the fuck I am.”

 _Oh. Well, think about it,_ Jameson said. _You need to at least learn it to understand me._

“Yeah, I know.” Aneirin smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be easy.”

* * *

“Jamie! Don’t walk away from me!”

Jameson whirled on him. _Don’t call me that!_

“What? Jamie?” Aneirin blinked. “That’s your name!”

 _It’s a nickname,_ Jameson signed furiously. _And it’s a childish one._

“Oh, what, I can’t call my little brother a nickname now?” Aneirin scoffed.

 _That’s not_ just _it!_ Jameson protested. _I’m not a kid, Aneirin! I’m twenty-one years old, I am an adult, and you don’t treat me like it._

“Okay, yes, legally that’s true,” Aneirin said. “But there’s more to being an adult than age. There’s experience. I mean, look at you. You can’t drive, you don’t have a job, you’ve never dated anyone. There’s just a lot that you don’t understand.”

 _I don’t know how to drive because you never taught me!_ Jameson stepped up to Aneirin, throwing his hands in his face. _I don’t have a job because you won’t let me get one! And you’ve never dated anyone either, so I don’t see how you can say anything about that. And even if you had, you turn away every guy I’m interested in. You go through my messages to make sure I don’t say anything “inappropriate” in my own_ private _messages! I need to live my own life, Aneirin._

“I…” Aneirin was at a loss for words. He couldn’t remember the last time Jameson had gotten this angry, and it was never directed at him. “Look, you’re…twenty-one is still pretty young, and with your condition—”

 _You’re only two years older than me,_ Jameson signed sharply. _And don’t talk to me about how my disability means I can’t handle most jobs, I’m sick of hearing it from you. You can’t expect me to help you dispose of a body and at the same time say I couldn’t deal with working in an office. And it’s absurd that you involve me in the former in the FIRST PLACE!_

Aneirin shook his head silently. What was there to say to this? What was there to say when his little brother was angry with him? With words failing, he fell upon action. And he started crying.

Jameson’s expression, previously so furious, turned to shock. Aneirin didn’t cry. Nothing ever seemed to phase him. The sight was concerning. _No no, don’t—it’s okay, it’s fine,_ Jameson hurried to sign.

“I just—just don’t want anything—I just want you to be safe,” Aneirin gasped, vision blurring with tears. “I’m trying—trying to make sure you’re safe, a-and happy, and…am I failing? Am I a bad brother?”

 _No, you’re a good brother,_ Jameson reassured him. _You just…made some mistakes._

“I’m just—th-this is dangerous, what I do.” Aneirin looked down, hiding his eyes in his hands. “People could—could come after you, to get to me, and—and I can’t let that happen, Jamie, JJ, I can’t—I’m sorry if you think I’m stifling you or something, I just—”

 _Hey, it’s fine, it’s fine. Really. I just…had some things to get off my chest._ Jameson put his hands on Aneirin’s shoulders reassuringly and smiled.

“Are you sure?” Aneirin asked, wiping his eyes.

 _Yes, it’s fine,_ Jameson signed. _We can talk this over later, work things out. I’m sorry for upsetting you._

“It’s alright, JJ,” Anti said, smiling.

* * *

It really should’ve been obvious from the start. What were the odds of him running into someone else who looked like him and spoke BSL? But the possibility hadn’t even occurred to Anti. Because for four years now, he’d thought his brother Jamie had been dead.

But he was wrong. Jameson wasn’t dead. Jameson was alive, and friends with Chase and Marvin and probably involved with all this, all Anti’s plans.

Anti backed up, then turned around and jumped over the fence into the house behind Marvin’s. He took off in a run.

* * *

The door slammed open, and Jackie startled awake. Anti stormed in, furious. Jackie tried not to cry out when his attention turned towards him, backing up as best as he was able.

“You.” Anti grabbed Jackie by the front of the hoodie and pulled out his gag. “Tell me this. Do you know a man named Jameson Jackson?”

Jameson? Jackie’s heart stopped. What did Anti want with him?

“Answer me!” Anti threw him backwards, and Jackie’s head slammed against the table with a painful crack. “Tell me if you know him or I’ll cut your fingers off one by one.”

“I do, I do,” Jackie gasped. “I know him.”

“How?” Anti demanded. “How do you know him?”

“We—we met him last October,” Jackie explained. “Marvin met him. At the theatre. They started talking, and—and we all met him.”

Anti stared at him a while longer, then suddenly let go, dropping him to the floor. Jackie felt his heart racing. He turned and watched Anti pacing the length of the room.

“Not expecting this,” Anti was muttering. “Unexpected—unexpected variable. Can’t control this. Can’t control for this.” He reached up and grabbed the watch around his neck. “It’ll work. Work around it. Work around— _Jamie_.” The last word was strong with emotion. 

Anti hurried out of the room into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. Jackie flinched. What was Anti planning? It…couldn’t be good for anyone. Especially not Jameson.

Well he couldn’t do anything about it in his current position. He was just worried about surviving. So Jackie tried to put it out of his mind. Yet…there was one thing he couldn’t forget. Had he been imagining it, or had there been tears in Anti’s eyes?


	14. Searches and Stalkers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurens goes searching for her notebook of information, but it seems to have disappeared. Meanwhile, Dr. Newson attends her court hearing against Marvin, and JJ has the strangest feeling that someone is following him.

Laurens pulled to the side of the road, checking the address she’d written down. This part of town was unfamiliar to her, so it paid to double-check. But she was indeed at the right house. Unless Chase had given her the wrong address, but considering this was supposed to be one of his friends’ places, she doubted that.

Stepping out of the car, she checked the cast on her arm and then hurried up the path to the doorway and rang the bell. She then waited for a few long, awkward moments before deciding to ring again. Then again. And just when she was starting to wonder if anyone was actually home, the door opened a bit, revealing a man holding a cat.. “Hi, get inside, quick,” he said.

“I—sorry, what?” Laurens blinked in surprise.

“If this is going to last longer than a minute, I need you to get inside before—oh, no you don’t!” The cat in the man’s arms was wriggling a lot, and he fought to keep hold of it. “She wants out, so get inside so I can close the door!”

“Oh! Right.” Laurens stepped inside the house, and the man closed the door right behind her.

Not a moment too soon, the cat jumped out of his arms and landed on the floor, staring at the closed door. It mewed, one of those whiny meows cats do when they want something. “Luna, for fuck’s sake, you’re not an outdoor cat,” the man said, exasperated. “There are no outdoor domestic cats, stop it.” The cat stared at him, then suddenly darted away, a black shadow streaking across the floor. The man sighed, then looked over at Laurens. “Sorry. Anyway, what did you want?”

“You’re Marvin, right?” Laurens asked. “I’m Rya Laurens, I’m your friend Schneep’s therapist.”

“Oh, you call him Schneep! He must like you.” Marvin nodded. “So how’d you find my address?”

“Chase gave it to me,” Laurens explained. “See, I gave my notebook to one of my coworkers, and he gave it to Chase, and when I called him about it he said he gave it to you, so now I need it back and I’ve come to get it.”

Marvin’s shoulders slumped a bit, as if releasing some anxiety. “Oh, okay. No problem. I think I left it—”

There was a sudden clatter down the hall. Laurens turned to see the small black cat from before was now wrestling with a larger, lighter-colored cat.

“For the love of—Luna Void, no! Leave him alone! He was just sleeping.” Marvin picked up a cat toy on a string from the coffee table, and handed it to Laurens. “Here, keep her busy while I look for your notebook. Fifteen minutes, she’ll wear herself out.” And without waiting for an answer, he disappeared down the hall and into one of the rooms.

“Wh—well, okay then.” Laurens started waving the cat toy around, immediately attracting the attention of Luna. The cat crept closer, crouched down, wiggled her tail, and then pounced! Laurens yanked the toy away at the last minute, a smile creeping onto her face. She’d never had a pet before, but she’d always considered it. Maybe once her routine at the hospital settled down more and this whole situation was fixed, she’d get a cat.

She spent what felt like a long time playing with Luna, waving around the cat toy and watching her jump after it. The other cat appeared at some point, too, but preferred to sit and just stare at the toy. In fact, by the time Marvin reappeared, she’d been thoroughly distracted by the cats.

“Hey, so uh…while you were hanging out in here, did you see your notebook?” Marvin asked, his voice strangely strained.

“Hmm? Well, no.” Laurens gave the living room another glance. There weren’t a lot of surfaces for a notebook to rest on. “Why?”

“I thought it was in my room, but uh…no.” Marvin walked around the perimeter of the room, moving some pillows and looking behind furniture. “I checked the hall drawers and the closet and the bathroom and even the altar room, and it’s not there.” He frowned, and disappeared down the other hall. “I’m gonna check the kitchen and dining room…”

Laurens stared after him, then put down the cat toy—allowing Luna to attack it at will—and followed. “Hey, I’ll help!” she called.

The two of them spent fifteen minutes searching the rooms of the house, with no luck finding her notebook. “What the fuck?!” Marvin finally cried, looking more than a little panicked. “I was sure it was here! I was—” He leaned over and hit the hallway wall several times.

“Whoa, hey, it’s fine, I don’t need it right now,” Laurens said reassuringly. “I can come back another day.”

“But it was right here!” Marvin insisted. “Why the fuck do things just vanish every time I put them down?!”

“You seem a bit frustrated,” Laurens reasoned. “Maybe you should forget about this for a while and do something else for a bit? It’ll be better when you come back.”

“What are you, a—I was about to say ‘what are you, a mental health advice website’ but you’re actually a therapist, huh.” Marvin shook his head, running his hands through his ponytail. “It’s just so—ugh! Frustrating, you’re right! And I’m not gonna be able to stop thinking about it, today when I have a thing!”

“What thing?” Laurens asked, curious.

“Oh, uh…I have a court hearing soon,” Marvin explained, his expression rapidly changing from frustration to embarrassment. “Not for me! I’m just suing someone.” He winced. “That sounds bad, but I promise, I’m not a bitch.”

“Wait…you wouldn’t happen to be the one suing Dr. Newson, would you?” Laurens suddenly asked.

Marvin blinked. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

Laurens laughed. “She said she wouldn’t be in for work today because she has to attend a court hearing. I thought your last name sounded familiar.” She noticed that Marvin’s awkwardness hadn’t disappeared. “Oh don’t worry, I don’t hold it against you at all. If she wasn’t my boss, I probably would’ve done something similar once I got back. Malpractice, right?”

Marvin nodded slowly. “Yeah…well…alright, then.” He turned away. “But I could’ve sworn I had your notebook somewhere in plain sight. It couldn’t have just disappeared.”

“Where was the last place you saw it?” Laurens asked, a bit taken aback by the sudden change of subject.

“In the living room, on the coffee table. About…I dunno, a while ago. But it’s not there now. Did it just vanish?! What the fuck?” Marvin scowled. “And also! Semi-related, but I swear the hall chester drawers weren’t that close to the wall. I know it’s out there, but it’s been driving me crazy all week or so, and I just had to say something to someone.”

“Chester…you mean the chest of drawers?” Laurens looked down the hall. They seemed to be pushed against a doorway. “Did you not put it back when you went through that door?”

“Nah, I don’t use that door,” Marvin said dismissively. “Why would I need it? It’s a shitty door. Doesn’t even lock.”

“…huh. Maybe you should fix that,” Laurens suggested tentatively.

“Maybe. I dunno, I keep forgetting.” Marvin sighed. “Anyway, sorry for that tangent. Also sorry I couldn’t find your notebook.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. Just let me know when you do find it. Here, I’ll give you my number.”

In the end, Laurens left without finding her notebook. That fact was starting to worry her, in all honesty. It contained a lot of information that she would have liked to keep close for her sessions. There would be a lot of work, putting it together again. And there was another, more uneasy feeling about the missing notebook that she couldn’t identify. Worry, perhaps? About more than just not getting it back?

What if someone took it? The question crossed her mind, and she wanted to dismiss it. Yet she found that she couldn’t. Not entirely.

Well, for now, she had to go to work. Laurens started her car again—it had taken some practice to get used to driving with her arm in a cast, but she was pretty sure she could handle it now—and headed out.

* * *

Newson stared down at the paper on the table before her, unable to do anything but read it over and over again. It had appeared in her mail that morning, but she hadn’t opened the envelope until now. That had probably been a bad idea.

_Due to the nature of this recent situation, we have decided to suspend your duties as head of the Silver Hills Institute and Hospital. This suspension will remain in place until the time in which this is resolved._

It made sense that the Board of Directors would want to suspend her position. They were concerned with image, after all, and having their head doctor involved in a legal incident involving malpractice was certainly bad press. Still, understanding their reasoning didn’t make it hurt any less. 

“Dr. Newson, are you okay?”

She looked up. “Oh? Yeah, I’m fine, Yates. Thanks.” Her lawyer didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t expect him to. So she quickly changed the subject. “They’re taking a while, huh?” She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “Is that good or bad?”

“Well, this isn’t a trial,” Yates reminded her. “A long wait period isn’t necessarily an indicator of anything. It’s most likely because of the complicated details of this case.”

Well, Newson had to admit that was true. First, they thought Schneeplestein was a killer. Then Laurens, his doctor, disappeared, and when she returned she brought with her evidence that Schneeplestein wasn’t actually the one who killed all those people. It was someone else, going by the pseudonym “Anti.” This Anti hadn’t just kidnapped Schneeplestein, but also this PI friend of his, who was still missing. Essentially, two cases were connected by this one man, and nothing had been as it seemed.

Bored, Newson looked around the room again. It was a small courthouse, only meant for hearings like this. There were two tables for the opposing parties—Newson called them the “sue-er” and the “sue-ee”, even though she knew those weren’t the technical terms—and their lawyers, and a longer, curved table for the judges who’d hear the case out. Lights overhead provided enough brightness to see things, helped by sunlight coming from the high-up windows. It was very typical of what you’d expect a courtroom to look like.

The judge table was currently empty, as they’d left in order to discuss whether to let this case proceed. One of the remaining tables was for her and her lawyer, and the other was for the other guys: Marvin Maher and his lawyer. Marvin was currently on the phone, either not noticing or not caring how loud it was in the small room even when he kept his voice down. Newson could hear every word of his conversation with Chase; they were talking about something “improving,” possibly a person, and saying how they hope it will continue that way.

A side door opened, and the judges returned. Newson sat up straight in her seat, waiting for what they would say.

“After a great deal of discussion, we have decided to call a second hearing, featuring testimonies from more people involved in the situation to hopefully clear up some of the circumstances surrounding it. This hearing will be held eight days from now, on the thirty-first of October…”

Newson let out a deep sigh at the statement. On Halloween, really? That was a holiday! Though, it wasn’t like she had any plans this year. For as long as she could remember, she spent holidays like Halloween with her brother, Jeremy. And…that wasn’t an option anymore.

A familiar ache reappeared in her chest. Sometimes she wondered if a hole had opened up in her heart the day she got the news about Jeremy. A hole that had been empty for so long, only to be filled with this deep, burning anger. Like a little ball of poison had wormed its way inside, and attached itself to the wall of the hole, and now it had been there for so long that she didn’t think she could remove it without doing damage to herself.

But the consequences of that poison were catching up to her, the symptoms finally showing. First in this court hearing, then in that letter that had been delivered to her that morning announcing the suspension of her position.

The judges finished talking, and without any more reason to be here, Newson stood up. She glanced at Marvin, noting how he looked rather smug, then turned and left, not bothering to notice if anyone followed her.

* * *

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Oliver asked.

Laurens nodded, though secretly she was still a bit uncertain. “It’ll be fine. We need a change of scenery.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” Oliver agreed. “Okay, if we’re doing this, let’s go.”

Nodding, Laurens leaned away from the conversation and closer to Schneep. “How are you feeling?” 

Schneep took a moment to answer, busy looking around at the hallway. It had been a while since he’d left his room. To the point where Laurens was seriously concerned about the effect it was having on him. Now that she was his therapist once again, she wasn’t going to let that continue. “I am…fine,” Schneep finally said.

“Your hands are shaking a bit,” Laurens noticed. “It’s fine if that’s nerves, you know?”

“A-ah, no, they have just been shaking…lately,” Schneep hurried to say.

“Really?” Laurens frowned. “That might be a side effect of your medication. Is there anything else like this bothering you?”

Schneep paused. “Okay, so I lied. I may be feeling some…emotions.”

Laurens smiled a bit. “Alright, but remember to please tell me if there’s anything like that happening.”

She reached forward and pushed open the double doors in front of them. The cafeteria was empty—just as she’d planned it to be. The floor was dotted with clusters of tables, with a door leading to the kitchen, where you would go to get food. She could hear the faint sounds of the staff getting ready for dinner.

“Let’s sit…hmmm, here.” Laurens took a seat at the nearest table. Schneep sat next to her, eyes darting around the room, while Oliver sat down at a different table some ways away. “How are you feeling now? Any more nervous?”

“It is…a very big open space,” Schneep said slowly. “It feels a bit empty.”

“Yes, that’s to be expected, it’s been a while since you’ve been in a room this big,” Laurens said slowly. She took out her stack of notes and spread them on the table before her. “So, how have you been?”

“You know, we see each other every day,” Schneep pointed out. “You would think you would know that.”

“Well, it’s always good to hear it from you directly,” Laurens said, glancing down at her notes. “How about…you told me a couple days ago about the eyes. How have things been with those?”

Schneep looked down. “Well, they are still appearing. But I think it is being less frequent.”

“That’s good! And any of the others?”

“The same.”

“I see.” Laurens made a note of that. The slow adjustment of medication appeared to be working. Of course, there was still a ways to go, but it was a start. “And…do you feel like talking about him today?”

Schneep flinched. “…very well. Sure.”

“You don’t have to, of course,” Laurens reassured her.

“I am just worried,” Schneep said. “What if…if he gets angry about me telling people?”

“I don’t think he can get in here,” Laurens said.

“But he has!” Schneep hissed. “Many, many times. I h-have seen him! Heard him. The walls of buildings do not mean anything. Still lying, still whispering to me to do things.” He wrapped his arms around himself.

“Schneep, we’re here to help, you know.” Laurens kept her voice low and calm. “We’ll always look out for him for you. And if he slips past, you have to let me or someone know, okay? Then we can do something about it.” She waited for Schneep to nod in response. “Alright. Are we ready to move on?” Another nod. “Good. Can I ask you about something you just said? The thing about him lying to you?”

“Oh…well, that is a story.” Schneep took a deep breath. “When I was stuck with him, he would…tell me things that were not true. Pretend to be a friend of mine, a-and often he tried to make me think everything that had happened…had not actually happened. That I had imagined it all. That Jackie was not actually there.” His voice started to shake. “I-it was confusing, and I did…did not know what to do about it. It was…h-hard to tell what was really there, while he was doing this.”

“I see.” Laurens nodded. “That sounds confusing. This lying was making it hard to tell what was real? Do you think he was taking advantage of your condition?”

“That must have been it,” Schneep muttered. “I do not know why h-he did that.”

“Usually that’s meant to make someone more dependent on the person lying to them,” Laurens explained. “To make them think that they don’t know what to do, but that person does.”

Schneep took a moment to process this. “…that was probably it, then.” He paused. “Is…do you think that this made the condition worse?”

“I think it would explain a lot,” Laurens said. “You seem to have a lot of doubt about what’s actually happening. I wonder…do you know the mirror trick?”

“That if something is not in the mirror, then it isn’t real? I know that, yes.”

“If I gave you a small mirror, like a compact or something, do you think that would help?” Laurens offered.

Schneep thought this over. “Yes, perhaps. Is that allowed?”

“A small one should be fine,” Laurens said. She knew that Newson would probably deny it, on the basis of it being easy to turn a mirror into a collection of sharp objects. But she thought that risk was worth taking. And she wasn’t going to just give in if anyone made a fuss about it, either. Besides, in her experience, mirrors in compacts were much harder to break, just because of how small they are.

“Then yes, I think I would like that.”

“Alright, I’ll get one for you tomorrow.”

* * *

Jameson was uneasy.

The feeling had been plaguing him all day. It had stayed with him all throughout work, but now, heading home that afternoon, it had increased. He couldn’t relax on the bus, tapping a meaningless rhythm on the back of the empty seat in front of him. What was this? Was he having an anxiety attack? He pressed his fingers to his wrist, checking his pulse. No, that was normal. He could breathe fine, he wasn’t shaking. There were no physical symptoms of an attack. So what was the feeling?

He glanced around the bus to see if there was anything that could be causing this. It looked like just about any other bus. A bit on the crowded side, but he tried to look over as many passengers as possible. Nobody really stood out. And looking out the window, there wasn’t anything outside that was unusual. The bus was on its normal course.

It took about twenty minutes to take the bus from his work to his apartment and back. Soon, JJ saw his stop approaching, and pulled the cord to indicate a stop request. The bus slowed, and he hopped up, making his way to the front. He nodded a thank you to the driver as the doors opened.

He was starting down the sidewalk when he couldn’t help but notice someone else got off the bus at the same stop. Not that strange, really. While this wasn’t a busy stop, people still got off here. But for some reason, the uneasy feeling increased. He glanced behind him, trying to look natural. The man who’d gotten off the bus was wearing a blue shirt and black scarf, his hair was light blonde and his eyes were…well, JJ couldn’t tell. After all, he’d only caught a glimpse of the man.

It was just some stranger, JJ decided. Nothing odd here. So he kept walking.

But soon, the stranger was walking in the same direction he was.

That wasn’t weird, right? That happened all the time, didn’t it? Still, JJ noticed he was walking a bit faster than usual, and he didn’t do anything to slow down.

He had to stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the signal to change. At this point, the stranger should’ve either turned the corner, or drawn even with him to also wait for the signal. But that didn’t happen. JJ once again glanced around, masking it as though he was looking at the traffic. The stranger had stopped some ways away, and was looking at a phone. Weird…most people didn’t hold their phone straight up like that, did they? Not unless they were taking a picture.

Jameson’s heart sped up, pounding in his chest. The signal changed, and he hurried across. Naturally, the stranger hurried, as well. And kept pace, some ways back, as Jameson walked faster and faster, suddenly very eager to get back to his apartment building.

It was only a few minutes’ walk, really, but it felt like forever before Jameson finally ducked into the front entrance of his building, quickly shutting the doors behind him. His breathing tore at his throat, and he tried to calm it.

“Sir, are you okay?” Cynthia, one of the apartment staff, was standing by the elevator doors, the only other person in the area.

Jameson looked over his shoulder, back through the glass doors. The stranger was walking calmly, looking down at his phone, not in sight of the front entrance yet. Noting that, Jameson hurried over to Cynthia. _I think someone might have been following me_ , he said.

Cynthia’s forehead wrinkled as she took a while to translate the signs. “Oh, really? That’s not…are you sure? We’re dedicated to the safety of our residents—”

Jameson nodded furiously, not caring about the usual safety spiel. _I’m sure_. He looked back towards the front entrance. The stranger had stopped walking just when he was about to pass the windows by, and was now more closely examining the phone. Once again, holding it straight up. _That man_ , he said, trying to gesture discreetly.

“Hmm? Oh, I don’t recognize him, he must not be a resident.” Cynthia leaned closer. “Would you like me to call the police?”

 _No, not unless it happens again,_ Jameson said. Although part of him really wanted to call the police, he also didn’t want to get some innocent man put on a watchlist or something for no reason. _Can you just please look out?_

“Of course, sir, and I’ll inform the rest of the staff to look out for any trespassers. Let us know if anything happens.”

Jameson nods, then presses the button for the elevator. As luck would have it, one opened right away, and he quickly got inside, trying not to look too anxious as he pressed the button for his floor. He tried to catch one last glimpse of the stranger before the doors closed, just barely in time to see the man lowering his phone.

He hurried back to his apartment. The moment he was inside with the door closed, Jameson sank to the floor, covering his mouth and feeling tears gathering in his eyes. Who was that man? What did he want? He was sure that he’d been taking pictures, but why? Actually, did it matter? He didn’t want anyone to have pictures of him. Even Chase and Marvin, the closest friends he’d had in years…It had taken weeks for him to let them take pictures of him, and months for him to feel comfortable with them posting those pictures online. So this? This was a nightmare.

Questions kept circling through his mind. Who was that man? What did he want? Why? Who was it? What? Why? Who? He could only think of one person who’d want to follow him for any reason…Jameson shuddered. No, it couldn’t be Anti. Anti didn’t know about him, and besides, that man clearly hadn’t been him. It may have been a while since he’d seen his brother, but he still knew what he looked like.

Jameson took a deep breath, and climbed to his feet. He made sure the apartment door was locked, then went around the rooms and closed all the blinds. Right now, he had to calm down. He didn’t want to start a downward spiral of panic and what-ifs. He needed something to ground himself. How about…playing a game or something? That usually worked for him, if he managed to make his mind busy. Yes.

He ended up turning on his computer and booting up Minecraft. That would work. A perfect distraction. JJ sighed, and slowly started to relax. He could handle this. After he was feeling better, he’d make a plan for what to do in the worst case scenario. He could handle it. It would be fine.

* * *

Elsewhere in the city, a bathroom sink was running. A man ran a washcloth under the water, soaking it, and started wiping away at his face. Peach-colored makeup washed away in streams, slowly revealing red scars covering half the man’s face.

Anti scowled at his reflection and the ugly scar lines it had. God, he hated them. He’d thought about getting surgery to get rid of them, but ultimately decided he didn’t trust any procedures that would do that. So he was stuck with his face for now. Most of the time. After all, it was easy to cover up most physical appearances with makeup.

Of course, it hadn’t been easy at first. But he’d practiced. And now he could change his face enough to slip by most people. It was surprising how much makeup could do, even appearing to alter your bone structure if you were skilled enough.

Though, that wasn’t all that contributed to a good disguise. For example, there was hair dye. Anti picked up a different washcloth and leaned down, trying to get as much of the blonde coloring off as he could manage. He’d probably have to take a full shower to get rid of it all, but it came off pretty easily for now. That was probably because it was some shitty temporary dye, but he had to make do with what he had in this apartment. Most of his good stuff was probably in police custody now, what with them having found his safe house and everything.

Satisfied with how much he’d managed to clean off, Anti dried his face and hair with a towel and returned to the apartment’s living room. He sat down in the nearest chair, pulled that stupid scarf off his neck, and took out his phone to look at the pictures he’d taken.

There was no doubt in his mind now; this _had_ to be Jameson. It had taken a week to track down his information, which was about twice as long as it usually took him. But that was because Jameson didn’t seem to have any online presence at all. Surprising, in this day and age. So Anti had to resort to some more…old-fashioned methods, until today, when he’d finally followed Jameson to where he was living. He noted the name and address of the building.

Anti grinned to himself, but then it slowly faded as he felt someone watching him. He sat up straight and turned to glare at the offending watcher. Jackie. He hadn’t moved from his usual spot, of course he wasn’t able to, but he was staring rather curiously at Anti. That changed once Anti returned the attention, and he flinched and looked away.

“Good, I don’t even have to say anything. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it was rude to fucking stare?” Anti growled. Jackie hunched his shoulders, trying to appear even smaller.

It occurred to Anti, not for the first time, that he wouldn’t have to deal with any of this if he just killed Jackie. It wasn’t like it would be difficult. Yet for some reason, he couldn’t do it. He was able to justify now as the police being reluctant to act if they knew he had a hostage, but there had been a period of a few months, right after he lost Schneep, where keeping Jackie around was no advantage at all, and really more trouble than it was worth. But he still didn’t do it.

Maybe he got attached. In some way or another. Didn’t that happen in situations like this? Well, Anti couldn’t really say he _cared_ about Jackie, but it was sort of nice to just have something living around, fun to see his reactions and little moments of panic. Or whatever.

He turned his attention back to the photos on his phone, zooming in as far as he could on Jameson’s face. God, he looked so much older. It had been too long, really. Maybe this was fate. Fate that he had come to this city, started his little project with Schneeplestein, and eventually found his brother again.

The only question was how Anti was going to get him back.


	15. Calm and Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The action lulls. Laurens explains that she'll be taking a day off and Marvin finally opens up to Chase about something. But JJ is still on edge from seeing someone follow him.

Laurens knocked on the office door, hearing a soft “come in” in response. She took a deep breath, and pushed the door open, stepping inside. It had been a while since she’d been inside. And now that Dr. Newson had been suspended as director of the hospital, she had to get a read on her replacement. But this wasn’t something she could just avoid, so she stepped inside. **  
**

“Ah, Rya, good to see you!” The woman sitting at the desk immediately stood up. “I heard you returned to Silver Hills, but I guess you’ve been too busy for me to see you.”

“Oh, hi Dr. Fells.” Laurens nodded, friendly. “Y-yeah, it’s been a while.”

“It has! And please, call me Becca.” Fells smiled cheerfully. “How have you been? Well, I suppose that’s a superfluous question. Your cast says as much.”

“Uh, yeah, it’s uh…been an ordeal.” Laurens adjusted her sling. “Anyway, I uh…I came in to ask for a day off. Actually, I _need_ it off.”

“Oh, of course.” Fells rummaged around in the desk, pulling out a form and a pen. “You know, you could have filled out a request. We have it online now.”

“I know, but this is important, so I, um, didn’t want to risk it,” Laurens explained. “I have to, uh, testify. In court. On the thirty-first.”

“Oh dear, well then you’ll definitely need the whole day off,” Fells said, filling out the form. “But you should tell your patient, too.”

“Yeah, I was planning on it.” Laurens wasn’t sure how into detail she would go. After all, the court case was all about Newson and her abuse of power, which could be a sensitive topic for Schneep. She’d try to be vague. As that thought crossed her mind, it slowly dawned on her that she was more involved in this case than she’d ever been before. Perhaps that was a bad thing. But she couldn’t leave it now.

“Great.” Fells finished writing, and looked up to smile at Laurens. “If you need anything else, please let me know. I understand that Newson got too involved in your work, and I’d hate to be like that, but I’m here to help!”

“Thanks, Becca.” Laurens coughed awkwardly. “I’ll, uh…see you later. Bye.”

“Goodbye, Rya!”

With that done, Laurens headed down to Schneep’s room, as usual. And as usual, she met Oliver outside, made some small talk, and then went in.

Schneep was laying on his back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. When Laurens and Oliver walked in, he immediately grabbed the small contact mirror she’d given him yesterday, and checked their reflections in it. Seemingly satisfied, he sat up straight.

“Hi Schneep,” Laurens said, taking a seat. “How are you?”

“Well, I am fine, I suppose.” Schneep shrugged. “Nothing much has changed. Which is a good thing, I think.”

“Yes, I think it is.” She hesitated, then continued on. “So I have good news and bad news.”

Schneep immediately tensed. “Bad news?”

“Do you want that one first?”

“Well, it depends on what it is.”

“It’s not too bad, I think,” Laurens said. “I just won’t be able to have our session on the thirty-first.”

“Oh. Alright.” Schneep exhaled, clearly relieved. “And how far away is that?”

“Six days. You’re okay with this? Or would you rather have someone else substitute for me?”

“Ah, your substitutes never work,” Schneep dismissed. “The last one was an asshole.”

“Newson? Well…yeah,” Laurens admitted.

“Besides, we already talk with each other almost every day. It is fine.” Schneep shrugged. “What is the good news?”

“Ah, right.” Laurens smiled. “Well, we might be able to move you back to your old room! The one with less restrictions. And it’s possible that I may be able to get you any clothing that was confiscated.” She still didn’t understand why Newson did that. Well. actually, she did.

Schneep’s face lit up. “Oh, that would be wonderful! What changed?”

“Well, the new medication seems to be working,” Laurens said. “And you said last time that the techniques I suggested were helping, too. So I think I can convince our new director that you’re not a risk case. Or at least, not as much as your file has you marked as.”

Schneep winced. “I do remember doing some…questionable things when first arriving here.”

“It’s understandable, you were lashing out,” Laurens said reassuringly.

“Still…” Schneep wrapped his arms around himself. “I remember that one orderly who I hurt, and I feel…well, bad, of course, and because of that, I do worry.”

“Theresa has made a full recovery, don’t worry,” Laurens said. “And if you’d like, today we can work on some ways to manage anger and stress.”

“That sounds good, thank you.” Schneep nodded.

“Alright, we’ll start with that.”

* * *

“This is weird.” Marvin shifts awkwardly on his seat, leaning onto the side of the hospital bed. “He’s just staring into nothing.”

“Hey, I thought you didn’t like eye contact anyway,” Chase pointed out, a smile pulling at his mouth.

“Well, yeah, but it’s weird when it’s Jack,” Marvin explained.

Marvin hadn’t had a chance to see Jack in a while. Or, actually, he’d just been forgetting to. So Chase had offered to bring him along on a visit, to make sure he did. Marvin had agreed, and now here they were, Chase in one chair at the side of the bed, Marvin in another on the opposite side.

“Is it wrong to say it’s kind of creepy?” Marvin asked reluctantly.

“What? Open eyes?”

“It’s not necessarily the open eyes, so much as it’s that he’s not moving at all other than that,” Marvin said. “I…wasn’t supposed to say that, was I? That was one of those things?”

“No, it’s fine, it makes sense,” Chase reassured him. “I get it.” He grabs one of Jack’s hands. “Y’know, he’s been moving a little bit recently. Sometimes he, like, squeezes your hand. He probably doesn’t mean to, but it’s nice. And it’s progress.”

“Involuntary twitching is progress?” Marvin asked.

“Yeah, cause he couldn’t move at all before.” Chase’s fingers ran across the back of Jack’s hand. He’d always been pale, but after being in the hospital for over a year, he was practically paper white. “I mean, it’s still pretty bad. He’s a seven on that scale I told you about.”

“Fast improvement, though, so that’s good.” Marvin adjusted his position, scooting the chair closer before leaning onto the bed again. “Do you think he can hear us?”

“I dunno,” Chase said, shrugging. “They always say people in comas might hear people, but that could be just a myth. Maybe we should ask someone who’s actually been in a coma and woke up.”

“Someone probably did a Reddit question like that.”

“Oh, for sure.”

They fell silent for a moment. Marvin traced the line on the heart monitor with his eyes. “So…how have the kids been?”

“Pretty good, far as I can tell. They started reception in August, y’know.” Chase laughed a bit. “Y’know, I still think kindergarten is a better term.”

“Ah yes, the child garden.” Marvin chuckled a little as well. “Y’know you didn’t have to enroll them if you didn’t want to. I never went to reception, and I turned out fine.”

“Do they even have reception or kindergarten in Ireland?”

“…not exactly, but that’s besides the point. It’s more about the age, I’m trying to say I didn’t go to school until I was six. Grandmam always said I was too nervous to go.”

“Can’t imagine you being nervous,” Chase muttered. “Well, Sophie and Nick are ready. They can be wild kids, but at their age, who wouldn’t be? They’re still very good listeners. Nick has a good memory, and Sophie can, like, figure out puzzles pretty quickly. They’re fine.” He looked up at Marvin. “What about you? Anything interesting going on in your life?”

“Well, there’s still the case I told you about,” Marvin said.

“Oh yeah, that. Did you tell JJ about the hearing on Halloween?”

“Yeah.” Marvin’s expression fell. “It’s shitty timing, but I can still stop by his flat for birthday stuff after it’s all done. Or he can watch me on TV. Because apparently they’re gonna televise this, you hear that?”

“Whoa, really?” Chase asked, surprised.

“Yeah, apparently Schneep’s case is a big deal.” Marvin ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, we wouldn’t have known that. JJ didn’t know Schneep before, you hate watching the news, and I wasn’t even in the country.”

“We missed everything,” Chase agreed. Part of him still felt bad about that. Maybe it would’ve been reassuring to know Schneep didn’t exactly disappear. Or maybe it would’ve been worse, since by all accounts, it looked like Schneep was actually a serial killer. But Chase pushes aside these thoughts for now. He actually wanted to ask Marvin something, now that the subject came up. “So, uh, are you ready to tell us why you suddenly went to Ireland? If it’s okay?”

Marvin didn’t say anything for a while. He just continued running his fingers through his hair. After much too long, he took a deep breath. “Yeah, fine. I mean, JJ isn’t here, but I can tell him later. Or, actually…maybe it would be better to show you.”

“Show me?” Chase repeated. “What do you mean?”

Marcin sat up straight and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up.

“Whoa, hey, dude! What if someone walks in?!” Chase leaned back.

“Just look.”

Though confused, Chase did so. But that only made him even more confused. “Are those…scars?”

There were three long, raised scars on Marvin’s torso, one on his chest and two on his stomach. Marvin quickly lowered his shirt again. “Yeah.” He folded his arms. “That’s why I left.”

“What?” Chase’s mind spun, working hard to come up with an explanation. “You got attacked or something? Why?”

Marvin took a deep breath, already looking tired. “Okay, so this is gonna be a long story. Y’know the boutique I worked for?”

“Yeah.”

“So I found out that place wasn’t exactly what it seemed.” Marvin hesitated, then blurted it out. “It was actually a front for an underground crime ring.”

Chase’s first impulse was to laugh. He tried to bite it back, but a quiet snrk escaped.

“What? It’s the truth,” Marvin said defensively.

“No, I’m not saying it’s not,” Chase hurried to say. “Not saying you’re lying. It’s just…you said it so straight, and it sounds so absurd.”

“Y’know what sounds absurd? The fact that Schneep and Jackie got kidnapped by a serial killer who turned out to be the brother of a guy we met just a few months later.”

“Fair point.” Chase coughed into his elbow to get rid of any leftover laughter. “Anyway, how do you know that? Or is this just a theory?”

“A gaaaame theory,” Marvin said.

“Dude, c’mon.”

“Sorry, habit.” Marvin paused, gathering his thoughts. “Well, I worked there for a while before I figured it out. I’m guessing that some of the staff was in on it, but not all of them. But things started seeming weird after a while, compared to other jobs I’ve had. Odd hours. Shifty management. And some customers would ask for something very specific that we didn’t actually stock, and when I brought it up to my manager, they always said they’d handle it personally. So I got suspicious, and I started investigating.”

“Marv, you could’ve asked Jackie for help,” Chase said, shaking his head. “He’s literally a private investigator.”

“Okay, yeah, but this was after he disappeared,” Marvin explained.”So I had to do it on my own. Besides, I might not have asked anyway, he’s a bit, uh…” He flapped his hand in the air, looking for the words. “Surprisingly a goody-two-shoes about it. But the point is, I did it myself. And when I snooped into a new shipment we just received, I found a hidden compartment with some guns inside.”

“Oh, jeez.” Chase’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, exactly.” Marvin nodded. “I left quickly, but as luck would have it, I ran into one of the management coming out of the back room. I guess they must’ve figured out what I saw, because a lot of people were acting really weird around me after that.” Marvin exhaled deeply. “And so, when I was walking home one night, this guy ambushed me and stabbed me.”

“Dude, holy shit!” Chase gasped.

“Imagine how _I_ felt!” Marvin shouted. “I got fucking stabbed! I thought I was gonna die in the middle of the fucking street!” He pressed his hand to his chest, right over the scar, as he took control of his breathing. _I was so fucking scared,_ he signed shakily.

“God, Marvin, I’m so sorry,” Chase said softly.

Marvin smiled a bit. _Well, thanks. Obviously, I didn’t die, but I’m pretty sure that’s just because of luck. I went into shock for a bit, and the guy stabbing me probably thought I was losing consciousness and left. I was bleeding a lot, I’m not sure how I managed to stand up. But I did, and I walked all the way home._

“Bro, call an ambulance!”

_I would’ve, but I thought that if people saw an ambulance in the area they would figure I survived, and try again. So I walked home, used all the bandages from that emergency super-thorough medical kit Schneep gave me, and passed out immediately after that. I woke up the next morning, still all dizzy, and knew I had to leave._

“Oh my god…” Chase could only shake his head. “I’m guessing you didn’t tell us because you didn’t want us involved in this?”

Marvin nodded. “Yeah…I mean, _I_ didn’t even really want to be involved, I just wanted to find out what was happening. Guess I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Chase laughed a bit, but it quickly faded. “So…you’re back now ‘cause you think it’s over?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Marvin shrugged. “I mean, I couldn’t stay with my grandma forever. I’m pretty sure the people who tried to kill me all think I’m dead. But still. I’m a bit nervous about getting another job.”

“Hey, understandable. But I’m sure it’ll be—” Chase gasped.

“What?” Marvin asked, slightly alarmed.

“Nothing, he just—just squeezed my hand.” Chase looked down at Jack. Of course, Jack still wasn’t looking at him. He knew the squeezing probably wasn’t intentional, but he couldn’t help from assigning meaning to it. “Maybe he wants to reassure you.”

“Maybe. Well, thanks, Jack.” Marvin patted Jack’s other hand. “Wonder what you’d think of all of this.”

“Well, we can ask him when he wakes up,” Chase said, putting a cheerful note in his voice. “He’d probably be like ‘what the fuck? Why am I friends with you crazy people?’”

Marvin laughed. “Ah, we love you, Jack. Even JJ likes you, even though you’ve never met. We’ve told him so many good things.”

Chase nodded, falling quiet. Things were insane lately, but at least there was the silver lining of Jack getting better. Hopefully, everything else would also improve with time.

* * *

Jameson opened the curtains and peered out his living room window. His eyes scanned the street below, but saw nothing. Still not satisfied, he pulled them shut.

There hadn’t been any sign of that stalker he’d seen a few days ago, but he wasn’t about to take any chances. He’d explained the situation to his boss, Mr. Patterson, and he’d let him take the week off for safety. So JJ had spent all his time in his apartment, reading and playing a lot of Minecraft. He knew this couldn’t last forever. But maybe it could last until his birthday.

Speaking of which…JJ checked his text messages really quick. The most recent exchange was with Marvin, where he explained the whole deal with the court case. It was good that this would be finished, but JJ couldn’t lie, he’d been looking forward to a birthday get-together with Marvin and Chase. Nothing too big, of course, but he was expecting both of them to be there at the same time. Unfortunately, that would now be impossible. The court case was going to last all day, so Marvin was only available in the evening. But then Chase couldn’t be there, since he was doing Halloween things with his kids at that time.

JJ sighed, and closed his messages. Well, even if the two of them came over at different times, they could have some fun. JJ headed over to the kitchen to make some tea, trying to come up with activities they could do together.

He’d never had friends over for a birthday before. Well, when he was a kid he would invite his classmates over a couple times. But not many responded, and even as a kid, he felt like the ones who did were only doing so out of pity for “the weird boy who couldn’t talk right.” Not to mention that a couple foster families wouldn’t actually let anyone come over.

Actually, when was the last time he’d spent his birthday with someone? It must have been a while…

* * *

“No, absolutely not.”

 _Are you serious?!_ Jameson signed angrily. _It’s just an amusement park! We’ve gone to plenty before!_

Aneirin didn’t even turn to look at him as he spoke, focusing on cleaning the dishes from dinner. Jameson was on his blind side, staring at the glass eye. “Yes, but we’ve always gone together. I wouldn’t mind that, but I can’t go tonight. I’m…busy.”

Jameson wasn’t sure he wanted to know what ‘busy’ meant. Judging from the ‘business’ JJ had been involved in in the past, it would probably end up with a dead body and cash changing hands. The thought made him sick, so he moved on. _I’m not eight years old, Aneirin, I’m turning twenty-two. I don’t need your permission._

“Well…you sort of do,” Anti said slowly, only glancing at Jameson long enough to take in the signs. “Or at least, you need me to drive you, which I won’t.”

_I wouldn’t need you to drive me if I knew how to drive._

“Well, you’ve never really shown any interest, you know?”

Jameson growled. It was no use arguing that of course he’d shown interest, it was _Anti_ who never showed any interest in teaching or paying for lessons. No use in saying any of that, Anti would just ignore it or twist it back on him _. Can you give me bus money, then?_

“What? No! You’re not taking the bus all the way out of town. Anything could happen.” Aneirin turned off the sink water and picked up a towel, wiping down the plates. “Especially with things being…the way they are lately.”

 _The way they are?_ JJ repeated, confused.

“Things on my end,” Anti says cryptically. “You could get hurt. I don’t want you out where it’s dangerous.”

Of course. Aneirin was always concerned about danger. Jameson was never sure if that danger was real or just an excuse, but the possibility of it being real was enough to make him back off…usually. _What if I called a friend to come with me to the park?_

Anti immediately looked over at him. “What friend? Where’d you meet someone?”

 _It’s a hypothetical question,_ JJ signed, reluctant to admit he didn’t really know anyone despite living in the area for six years. He supposed that was what happened when you didn’t have a job to meet people and your older brother was a mercenary who’d scare off anyone you met by chance. _What if I did that?_

“But…but I’ll be away all night,” Aneirin stammered, suddenly hurt. “Would you really want to celebrate without…no, that’s selfish, I know it.” He laughed. “I guess I just expected family to stick together for birthdays. I mean, I always clear my day up for you, which isn’t easy.”

 _But you didn’t clear your schedule for_ my _day,_ Jameson signed, expression blank.

“I did! But this is an emergency. I’ll be here until nightfall, and I got a cake and everything so we could have dessert together.” Aneirin smiled softly. “We can go to the park tomorrow, or the day after. For now, I…I got you a present. I mean, that’s what you’re supposed to do, but…” He looked down. “Well…nevermind. I guess I couldn’t stop you if you wanted to leave right now.”

After a long pause, JJ sighed. Anti really was too good at this. And it wasn’t like he could sneak out and go there on his own, anyway. First, he didn’t know where Anti kept the cash or his credit card, and second, Anti had installed security cameras around the house a few months ago, making that impossible even if Jameson could find bus money. _Alright, I suppose we could go there some other time,_ he signed.

Aneirin’s expression lit up. He leaped forward and wrapped Jameson in a tight hug. “Oh, thank you, Jamie. You’re so sweet. I love you.”

Jameson pulled back a bit. _Love you, too,_ he signed.

“Oh, c’mon, you can’t say it?” Aneirin ruffled JJ’s hair, ignoring the way he immediately fixed it. “I think something like that needs to be said.”

A pit of dread opened up in Jameson’s stomach, but he knew he had to go through with it, or Anti would keep bugging him until he did. “Luh…luhf y-oo. Annn.”

“There we are. Now, how about I go get that cake?”

* * *

JJ snapped out of the memory with a shudder. It had been a while. And he’d been glad of that at first. But then he met Chase, Marvin, and Jackie, and realized that quality time wasn’t supposed to be difficult and end with him always giving up what he wanted. Well, he was still working on that. It made up a lot of his discussions with his therapist.

But that wasn’t the point. The point was that he was actually looking forward to his birthday, for once. He was sure it would be fun, even if he met up with Chase and Marvin separately instead of together.

He realized that he’d been standing there, spacing out, for a while, and the water for his tea was already boiling. He hurried to take the kettle off, and busied himself with the next steps. It was only a few days until his birthday. Things would be alright.

* * *

Jackie was asleep. Anti could see him from where he was standing in the bedroom doorway. Idly, he recognized that being in that position for so long was probably doing some damage to Jackie’s body, but he didn’t care enough to move him somewhere else. It wasn’t like there was that much room in the apartment anyway.

Of course, that would start to be a problem when more people started to join him. Anti was already working on getting a second safe house, but it might take a few more days.

He slowly closed the bedroom door, leaving it open just a crack. There wasn’t that much in the room, just a bed, a dresser, and a desk with a chair. Anti sat down, and picked up his phone from where he’d left it on the desk. He flipped through the photos he’d taken a few days ago. The address of Jameson’s apartment building was clearly visible. He hadn’t been back there since that day. It wouldn’t do to be spotted, and therefore put JJ or others on their guard. No, they had to lower their defenses. And when the time was right, Anti would swoop in. He was already developing a plan.

His phone vibrated, and a notification appeared at the top. Looked like someone had a job offering for him. Anti clicked on it, reading quickly through the proposal. It wasn’t anything special. Just a target he didn’t know, without any special qualifications. Someone just wanted someone else dead and didn’t want to do it themselves.

“Think over it,” he decided, switching off his phone. There wasn’t a rush.

So, while he was here…Anti glanced over at the small turquoise notebook on the corner of the desk. After a bit, he picked it up and started scanning the handwritten pages. Always fascinating to read a professional’s take on someone’s mind. Though the analysis wasn’t the most important thing in the book.

Anti chuckled to himself, and flipped to the back. The keycard was still safely tucked close to the spine, in between the pages. Right where he left it. Right where he found it, when he’d decided to snatch the notebook from Marvin Maher’s house. And given the contents of the notebook, there could be only one door that this would unlock.

He glanced at a calendar hanging on the wall. It would happen soon. He just had to work out the wrinkles in his plan. Smiling to himself, Anti returned to his reading, silently plotting out the next few days.


End file.
